


A Match Unmade in Beacon Hills

by KouriArashi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (well really more of a medium build), Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Developing Relationship, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Happy Ending, Kate Argent is the worst, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Sterek is endgame obvs, The Hale Family (Teen Wolf) Lives, True Love Conquers All
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KouriArashi/pseuds/KouriArashi
Summary: Derek met his soulmate Kate Argent when he was 15, and he's tried for years to understand why his soulmate is so cruel to him. Then he meets Stiles Stilinski, who has no soulmate mark, an extremely rare phenomenon. Stiles thinks that he's destined to be alone forever, but apparently fate has other plans...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hello everyone! Welcome to Whose Fic is it Anyway, where the character's ages are made up and the canon doesn't matter! It's time for another fic about soulmates!
> 
> This fic does definitely need a trigger warning for its depiction of domestic abuse because Kate is The Worst. The fic will contain emotional and psychological abuse, gaslighting, and a storyline about a pregnancy that may or may not be real (I don't want to spoil it, but I know that this can be a real trigger for people, so if you need to know before you can read, just pop over to [my tumblr](http://gingersnapwolves.tumblr.com) and ask me there).
> 
> Plus there's a lot of rants about capitalism but hopefully none of you will mind that, LOL.
> 
> PS - I have no idea what sort of Jeep Stiles actually drives, so if any of you do, and want to let me know, I can correct it. =D
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek took a deep breath as he entered the library, enjoying the familiar smell of old books and the warmth as he came in from the chill. It was unseasonably cold for late winter, and he was hoping spring would come on soon. But he always found himself taking that deep breath when he got inside. The library was his favorite place in Beacon Hills, a safe place where he could have peace and quiet.

He supposed it was interesting, in a psychological sort of way, that the quiet of the library felt so different from the quiet of his house. His house was often quiet, because Kate would leave for days at a time. He hated it when his house was quiet, because it was a cold sort of quiet, a quiet where there should have been noise. The noise of pets and children, things he had always wanted but could never have. The quiet of the library was a warm sort of quiet, the quiet of communal learning and respect for knowledge.

There was really no reason for him to go to the library to study. His house was huge – three bedrooms, two and a half baths, far larger than it needed to be for just him and Kate – and there was plenty of room for him to study even when Kate was there. He had stopped going for a while, but then picked it up again when the tournament season was over and Kate was home more. She often made fun of his studies, his three years pursuing his graduate thesis, and harped on him to ‘get a real job’.

Derek didn’t see why she cared. They had plenty of money. His parents had both been rich before they even met each other, and had only gotten richer from there. They supported him without question. In fact, when Derek had started talking about dropping out of school – at the time he had still been in college – so he could earn money to give Kate the lifestyle she wanted – they had forbidden him from doing so unless it was what he really wanted. They bought the house Kate demanded, a modern-style eyesore that felt more like an artpiece than a home. They paid the utilities and the credit card bill. She frequently teased him for living off his parents’ money, but that sure as hell didn’t stop her from spending it.

Kate earned money on her own, from her tournaments, but insisted that she be able to keep it separate. For a while, Derek had argued with her about why her money was her money, but his money was their money, but after a while she had worn him down and he had stopped fighting. Money wasn’t important to him, and it just wasn’t worth it. 

She was his soulmate, and he would take care of her.

He sank into the chair at one of the study carrels and pulled a book out of his backpack. ‘The History of the Soulmate Ceremony’ was the title. He had read it cover to cover so many times that he practically had it memorized. 

It was a fascinating subject, honestly, detailing how the mechanics of the soulmate magic had been explored as early as the seventeen hundreds. How it had been used to settle wars in Europe and spread from there across all the continents. How science had at first been baffled but then started finding chemical evidence for the bond. How the laws had been introduced to regulate the system and put everybody on the same page.

Nothing new had really been discovered in the past two decades, and Kate frequently mentioned that she didn’t know what Derek thought he was going to contribute. “If you have to study, couldn’t you at least study something useful?” she asked.

Sociology was pointless and more importantly wouldn’t pay the bills, Kate said, but Derek had gotten his degree in it anyway and made an excuse about it being too late to change his major.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find . . .” Derek heard someone say, and he glanced over at the help desk. He had noticed a couple months back that there was a new guy at the help desk, and, well. He was cute. Derek had caught him looking over a few times, like he was thinking about saying something, but then decided against it. He wondered if maybe the cute librarian hadn’t met his soulmate yet.

He had met Kate when he was fifteen, but that was actually fairly unusual. Most people didn’t learn who their soulmates were until the ceremony was done, the day after their nineteenth birthday. That meant the older of the pair would always find out first. But social convention generally dictated that they would wait until the younger had also had their ceremony. 

Kate didn’t care about societal convention. She was five years older than Derek and had come to meet him less than a year after her ceremony had been performed. “I just couldn’t wait,” she had said, her eyes sparkling. She had been gorgeous and sophisticated and more interesting than any girl his own age could ever be. 

They had only met the once, for a few hours when she had come to see him, and for the next four years he had obsessed over the amazing woman who was going to be his wife. He worked out and learned French (she was French) and read articles about the sort of clothing and haircuts women liked. “She’s going to love you,” his mother had assured him, the day before his ceremony.

For the first week, everything had been great. She teased him a little, sure, but it was fine. The next few weeks were . . . fine. So she thought sociology was stupid. He could study something else, or drop out and get a job. She wanted to get married right away, even though he would have preferred to wait until he was out of school. They could get married. The following few months were less fine. She wanted to keep her money separate, and it bothered him but he hated arguing about it. She wanted a fancy house with expensive things, and it meant nothing to him but he supposed he could provide it. She didn’t want kids and she hated animals, both of which were anathema to Derek’s very being. 

Bit by bit, it added up until he realized that he didn’t love her, couldn’t love her, that the woman fate and the universe had chosen for him was as unlike him as she could possibly be, and now he was twenty-five and hiding in a library so he wouldn’t have to tell his wife that he was reading a textbook on soulmates for the eighth time in an effort to explain how she could possibly be his. After about an hour and a half, he packed up his things and headed for the exit, still no closer to the answer.

“Hey – hey!” a voice called out, and Derek half-turned a few steps from the door to see the cute librarian standing there. He was taller than Derek had expected; he thought he had only seen him behind the desk where he somehow looked short, but they were actually very close in height. “You left your phone in the study carrel.”

“Oh, thanks,” Derek said, accepting it. 

Cute Librarian smiled, which made him twice as attractive, and said, “No problem. See you Thursday!”

With that, he jogged back towards the desk, and Derek headed out into the cold.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I said ‘see you Thursday’,” Stiles moaned at Scott, trying to drown his sorrow, or possibly himself, in a mug of coffee. “I might as well have made myself a sign that said ‘Hi, I’m stalking you’.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “It’s probably not that weird that you know his schedule, if he’s so regular about it.”

“It’s definitely weird,” Stiles argued. “Do you know how many other regulars whose schedules I know? Zero. Nada. Zilch.”

“Okay, but he doesn’t know that,” Scott pointed out.

“That’s true, I guess,” Stiles said, and then sighed. “Then again, it’s not like it matters. It’s not like anything’s going to happen with him, whether he thinks I’m some weirdo stalker or not.”

Scott winced, and it was clear that he didn’t know what to say. He never knew what to say at moments like this. Stiles didn’t blame him. Nobody knew what to say. He could vividly remember the end of his soulmate ceremony, of the silence that had fallen as everyone stared at his blank wrist and tried to figure out why there was no name there.

“Do it again,” Noah had said, and the Druid had obligingly done the ceremony a second time. The results had been the same. The Druid quietly told them that Stiles had no soulmate. It happened, he had said, although it was vanishingly rare. He had never seen it before, over the course of thousands of ceremonies he had performed. 

When he thought back on it, the silence was what Stiles remembered most about that day. The awkward shuffling from a group of people who had gathered to celebrate, and now felt they should be offering condolences. Noah had nipped that in the bud, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder and saying, “I guess my son is just too special to match with a mere mortal like the rest of us.”

A nice sentiment, Stiles supposed. The universe apparently didn’t give a shit about his opinion. He didn’t think he was that special at all, and he sure as hell didn’t want to live the rest of his life alone. He had heard other people talk about the moment they had met their soulmate. It sounded amazing. But apparently it was something he was never going to have.

He hated the looks people gave him, when they met him and shook his hand and saw his blank wrist. Confusion, pity, disgust. A lot of people clearly thought there was something wrong with him. He’d heard their murmured comments, seen the way they shook their heads. “I feel sorry for his parents,” somebody said once, thinking he was out of earshot, and that hurt more than anything else. Stiles felt bad for his father, too. He was an only child; his mother was dead. Stiles knew his father would have loved to have grandchildren, and Stiles had been looking forward to being able to provide them. 

Noah remained upbeat about it. There were still options, he said. As someone who had lost his soulmate to disease at a relatively young age, he knew that there were other widows and widowers who didn’t want to spend the rest of their lives alone. “You can still find somebody,” he had told Stiles more than once in the two years since the ceremony had failed. “Not that you have to find somebody. If you’re happier being single, that’s fine too!”

Stiles wasn’t. It got worse when Scott and Kira got married and had their first child, when everyone he knew from high school was happily settling down with the person that fate had decreed their perfect match. He was left on the sidelines, watching. And occasionally he met someone attractive and started to get ideas, and seeing the name on their wrist was always like a glass of cold water being thrown in his face.

“Hey,” Scott said, seeing that Stiles was edging towards gloom. “He probably sucks anyway. Like, I bet he clips his toenails in bed and watches Jersey Shore.”

Stiles gave a snort that was combination laughter and annoyance. “Right. Too good for mere mortals, that’s me. And definitely too good for hot graduate students who always hold the door open for people carrying books and – ”

“Stop,” Scott said, shaking his head. “Just stop.”

Stiles grumbled but stopped. “See you Thursday,” he muttered to himself, disgusted. Maybe he really didn’t deserve a soulmate. He couldn’t even talk to a stranger without embarrassing himself.

When Thursday rolled around, he tried to hide behind the desk, hoping that if the hot graduate student turned up, he wouldn’t say anything about what had happened. He showed up at three like he usually did, but he barely glanced at the desk as he came in. Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t going to be an issue. They’d probably never even speak to each other again – 

“Excuse me,” a voice said, and when Stiles looked up he was confronted by Hot Grad Student, and nearly jumped fifteen feet into the air. HGS was somehow even hotter up close, now that Stiles could get a good look at his beautiful eyes and adorable little bunny teeth. His voice was gorgeous, too, lighter than Stiles would have expected. He wanted to wrap himself in it and roll around in it. “One of the computers giving me a weird error message.”

“Oh, yeah, they’re from the stone age,” Stiles agreed, coming back to earth and managing to speak in one octave, for which he felt he deserved a medal. “What were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to request a book through interlibrary loan,” Hot Grad Student said, and Stiles had to pinch himself because he shouldn’t get so turned on by a guy knowing what interlibrary loan was. “But it keeps saying that the title isn’t available, even though I can see it in the catalog in San Francisco.”

“Let me come take a look,” Stiles said, because that sounds like an actual problem, not just the usual stoned moron who can’t make internet work good. He followed Hot Grad Student over to the computer and sat down, spinning around in the chair once out of sheer habit before leaning in to take a look. He did a bit of a double take at the title of the work HGS was trying to order, a book called ‘Atypical Soulmates: A Series of Case Studies’, then clicked to order it. As HGS had said, it popped up an error saying the title wasn’t available. Stiles frowned and looked at the book’s information a little more closely. “Oh! I see what happened.”

He spun around in the chair again, then looked up at HGS and said, “See, the book’s in the catalogue twice - one as a text and once as an e-book. You’re trying to order the e-book, and it won’t let you, because those aren’t available through interlibrary loan. You have to click ‘reserve’, not ‘hold’. Presuming you want the e-book. If you want the text, you need to go back to the catalogue and find it.”

“The e-book is fine, but . . .” HGS was frowning. “Why would I need to reserve it? Couldn’t I just check it out?”

Stiles shrugged. “When we have an e-book in the catalogue, we only get a license to have it out to a certain number of people at one time.” He saw the look on HGS’s face and said, “Yeah, it’s kind of stupid. It’s an artificial scarcity issue.”

“Oh.” HGS seemed to roll that over in his mind for a few moments before he said, “Capitalism is the worst.”

Stiles all but swooned. It took effort to keep his voice from cracking as he said, “Hah, yeah, no lies detected. Honestly, you’ll probably get it quicker if you request the actual text - there’s no wait list for it, so you’ll just need to wait for it to be shipped over, rather than waiting for the e-book to become available.”

“All right. Thanks for your help.”

Stiles relinquished the chair with reluctance, forcing himself not to ask any of the questions bubbling around in his brain. Was HGS’s thesis on soulmates? Could he answer some of the million questions Stiles had about the whole thing? Would it be rude to try to hijack him when he was only trying to study? (If he was researching soulmates, was he maybe a little more open-minded about relationships outside them? Would he be up for a night of passionate sex?)

Since the answers was pretty much obviously yes, probably not, definitely, anyone’s guess, and ‘don’t throw yourself at a hot grad student just because he was looking up a book on soulmates’, Stiles forced himself to get back to his work. He catalogued some books, answered some stupid questions, answered some smart questions, and left when his shift was over at four thirty.

The cold hadn’t let up, and he winced as he left the library. He could see his breath as he got behind the wheel of the Jeep, which promptly coughed twice and failed to turn over. “Oh, come on,” he groaned, trying a second time. The sputtering sounded even sadder than usual. He popped the hood and stared down at the engine in glum dismay.

“Need a jump?” a voice asked, and Stiles practically jumped out of his skin again. “Sorry,” HGS said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you didn’t, I was just, you know, not paying attention. You think it’s the battery?”

“That’s what it sounded like. Cold will drain them fast. I’ve got jumper cables in my car . . .?”

The way he was phrasing it made it sound like a question, which in Stiles’ opinion was kind of stupid, because what else was he going to do, call a tow truck and then wait to freeze to death? “Yeah, that would be awesome. Thanks.”

HGS jogged towards the other side of the parking lot, and a few moments later, a black Camaro pulled up in the space next to Stiles. He felt his cheeks start to flush. Was there anything about this dude that wasn’t sinfully hot?

“Okay, let me just - ” HGS stopped and stared. “Is that duct tape?”

“Maybe,” Stiles said, defensively.

“Is this car literally held together with duct tape?” HGS asked, like he might get a different answer.

“Only parts of it,” Stiles replied.

“Okay . . . so when I jump start your car, you’re going to want to drive straight to a mechanic or an Auto Zone or something so they can put a new battery in. Otherwise it’ll just die again.”

“I know that,” Stiles said. “I mean, I’m not an idiot.”

“Your car is held together with duct tape,” HGS said. “I can’t be blamed for thinking you might not know that.”

Stiles made a face at him, and HGS smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement, and Stiles had to look away for a few moments. He definitely didn’t want to watch when those strong, skilled hands started hooking up jumper cables. He was already in enough trouble. Instead, he said to the sky, “I just hope they have a battery for it at Auto Zone. Last time they had to order it. Not a lot of people out there driving Jeeps from the eighties.”

He was really just talking to himself, so he was surprised when HGS replied, “Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem. I can call my sister’s shop - see if she has one.”

“Oh, your sister is a mechanic?” Stiles asked.

“Sort of. I mean, yes. She manages one of my family’s shops.” HGS looked up and frowned, then said, “I’m Derek, by the way. Derek Hale. My family owns Hale’s Angels - you know, the motorcycle chain?”

“Oh, yeah!” Stiles said, recognizing the name. “I’ve seen their commercials. I’m Stiles. Your dad used to be a NASCAR driver, yeah?”

“Yeah. But motorcycles are his passion. My mom is the one who founded the chain of mechanics’ shops. She loves old muscle cars. I grew up around engines. Okay, go turn it over.”

Stiles did, holding his breath, and the Jeep started. “Nice!”

“Let me call my sister real quick.” Derek unhooked the cables and put them back in the trunk of his Camaro, then pulled out his cell phone. “Hey, Laura. Do you have a battery for a 1980 Jeep CJ5 in stock?” There was a long silence, then, “Could you? That’d be great.” He cupped his hand over the phone and said to Stiles, “They don’t have one, but she checked their inventory and said the shop in Santa Rosa does. She’s going to see if anyone there can run it over.”

“That is awesome,” Stiles said. “Thanks for doing this. I mean. You don’t have to.”

Derek just shrugged. A moment later, he said, “Yeah, okay. Thanks. I’ll tell him - oh, a guy I met at the library. Okay. Thanks.” He hung up and said, “So, they’re going to run it over, but it’ll take about an hour, maybe an hour and a half, because Isaac is finishing up with a job right now but he’ll bring it by on his way home. I kind of assumed you wouldn’t mind waiting.”

“No, not a bit,” Stiles said, then on impulse, “Let me buy you dinner. You know, as a thank you.”

Derek flushed faintly pink, which made Stiles want to do cartwheels despite the fact that this relationship was bound to go nowhere. “You don’t have to. I mean, it’s not a big deal.”

“No, but I want to. C’mon, where’s your sister’s shop?”

“It’s at Cooper and Gilbert.”

“Awesome, that’s right near Chase’s diner. They make amazing cheese fries.”

“Well - okay.”

Derek gave Stiles the address to Laura’s shop in case they got separated in traffic, and they drove over. Laura seemed friendly enough, and said it was fine for Stiles to leave his car there while he and Derek grabbed dinner; as soon as they got the battery, they’d pop it in and then she would call him to let him know it was done.

Ten minutes later, Stiles and Derek were seated at the diner. They got their sodas and Stiles insisted on ordering the cheese fries. “So what’s your thesis about?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager. “Soulmates?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Derek said. “Specifically, the mechanics of atypical soulmates. Ninety-four percent of soulmates are romantic pairings, but there’s a small number of pairings who are platonic, or even filial.”

“Filial?” Stiles asked, thinking he got the gist but wanting to be sure he understood.

“Yeah. Related by blood. That’s about zero point five percent of all soulmates, and almost always presents in twins, although very rarely it’ll happen in non-twin siblings. Never in parent/child relationships.”

“That would be creepy somehow,” Stiles said. He cleared his throat and said, “So, uh . . . what made you choose that for a thesis? I’m just, you know, curious.”

He wasn’t sure why, but that caused Derek to tense slightly, his shoulders going stiff. He seemed to welcome the fact that the waitress came over at that moment, and they both ordered their meals. Once she was gone, he said, “I guess I was just interested in why some people are different. Why some soulmates aren’t like the others.”

“I feel that,” Stiles said, more glumly than he realized. When Derek gave him a questioning look, he said, “Look, uh. It’s not a big deal, but . . .” He steeled his nerves and tugged his sleeve up to reveal his bare wrist. “I don’t have a soulmate.”

Derek’s eyes went slightly wide. “That is - an incredible coincidence,” he said, clearly struggling to stay academic. “They’ve only identified about a thousand people worldwide who don’t have soulmates, and now I know two of them. What are the odds?”

“You know someone else without a soulmate?” Stiles asked, startled. Out of all the responses he had been expecting, that wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, my uncle Peter,” Derek said. “What happened at your ceremony?”

“Nothing,” Stiles said. “They did the whole rigamarole and just - nothing.”

“That’s what happened to him, too. That’s so weird.” Derek was frowning, but then shook himself and said, “Sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel like some sort of freak. You know, my first theory was that people without soulmates were probably just aromantic and asexual, but when I asked Peter that, he told me more about his sex life than I ever wanted to know. And it turns out aro/ace people usually have platonic soulmates, so.” He shrugged. “Life takes all kinds, I guess.”

“True dat,” Stiles said, glad that he wasn’t making a big deal out of it. “So what about your soulmate? What are they like?”

“Uh, Kate is . . .” Derek cleared his throat. “She’s an amazing athlete. She’s been in UFC and MMA championships all over the country. She did archery for a while, too, but gave it up to have more time for the other stuff. She travels a lot, so it can get lonely, but, you know, she loves doing it so I engage my ‘supportive husband’ mode. She’s really gorgeous and honestly way out of my league, soulmate bond aside.”

He seemed uncomfortable talking about it for some reason Stiles couldn’t fathom. Most people loved to brag about their soulmates. Fortunately, their cheese fries came before things could get too awkward, and he started stuffing his face and talking about how he hadn’t had them in a long time because he has to try to watch his dad’s diet.

“So what are you studying?” Derek asked.

“Whether or not it’s possible to live off minimum wage in northern California,” Stiles said.

“That must be an interesting topic - ”

Stiles cut him off, laughing. “I don’t mean I’m actually studying it. I took an economics class once and once was more than enough. I mean, I work full-time at the library, and they pay minimum wage. I’m not in school.”

“Oh.” Derek flushed slightly pink. “I just sort of assumed - I mean, I know you work at the library but you look college age so I kind of figured you were a college kid working there part-time.”

“I couldn’t really afford college,” Stiles said, “and after a long, hard look at my options, I decided I’d rather find a job I could do without a college degree than go tens of thousands of dollars in debt. Right now I’m working and saving up to go to the police academy.”

“I didn’t realize you didn’t need a degree for that,” Derek said.

“Yeah, I mean, it definitely helps if you want to be any sort of specialist, but for a beat cop, high school degree is fine. Plus my old man can put in a good word for me - he was the county sheriff until he retired a couple years ago.”

They chatted for a while about their families and what they’ve studied, and drifted into movies and popular culture. Stiles was a huge fan of comics and superhero movies, and Derek was more into science-fiction and zombies, but there was plenty of crossover between their two genres. They were both avid readers; they both loved baseball, they both loved Mexican food. Stiles wondered if this was what meeting one’s soulmate was supposed to be like - although he supposed not, since Derek already had one.

Still, after a while he sort of forgot about that whole thing because he was honestly having such a good time. It was disappointing when his phone rang and Laura said his car was all set. He paid the check and Derek dropped him back off at the shop. “So, I’ll, uh, I’ll see you at the library,” he said.

“I’ll be there,” Stiles said, and waved as Derek drove away.

~ ~ ~ ~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opinions of World War Z belong entirely to my nerdy brother.
> 
> Also please pretend I know something about baseball. =D

Stiles had no idea why he was so nervous during his next shift at the library. It wasn’t like Derek was just going to disappear, or like Derek would suddenly hate him because they spent two hours together. Hell it didn’t even matter if he did. They weren’t best friends. He had survived over twenty years without Derek in his life; he wouldn’t drop dead if he had somehow offended him.

But at three, Derek showed up just like clockwork, like he always did. Well, not quite like he always did. Instead of heading for one of the study carrels, he walked up to where Stiles was sitting at the desk and greeted him with, “Hey. I brought you something.”

“Oh, yeah?” Stiles said, trying to pretend he wasn’t over the moon at being greeted this way.

Derek reached into his bag and pulled out the DVD of World War Z. “You said you like zombie stuff. Have you read the book?”

“I love the book, and I heard the movie was terrible,” Stiles said, trying to decide if he needed to reevaluate his opinion of Derek’s taste.

“It is. It’s awful. But I don’t know anyone else who read the book, so when I try to complain it about it, my friends are just like ‘yeah, Hollywood adaptations, right?’ because they don’t appreciate how truly awful it is.”

Stiles squinted at him. “So you want me to watch a movie that you yourself hated, so you can bitch about it to someone who will understand why you hated it so much?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Stiles couldn’t help but grin. “Okay. Will do.”

They didn’t talk again for the rest of his shift. He was busy doing actual work, and Derek was, presumably, studying. He got off work at six, by which point he didn’t see Derek anywhere. He went home, made himself a grilled cheese, and slouched onto his sofa to watch the movie. When he opened the DVD box, he found a post-it note with a phone number inside. He felt his face flush pink as he entered it into his phone under Derek’s name, then texted him to say, ‘Okay, I’m starting. You better appreciate this.’

An hour later, his texts had degenerated into mindless screaming and angry emojis, and he had the distinct feeling that Derek was enjoying the shit out of it. When the movie was finally over, he immediately called Derek and demanded, “What was that? What! Was that?!”

“Right?!” Derek replied, with feeling.

“Why did you do this to me? My life is infinitely sadder now that I know how much they ruined it.”

They ended up spending two hours on the phone, starting by complaining about the movie, then complaining about The Walking Dead, then moving on to zombie shows they actually enjoyed (Derek made Stiles promise to try In the Flesh, and Stiles made Derek promise to try Z Nation), and then moving on to their zombie apocalypse plans. That somehow ended up in another rant against capitalism, which Stiles stopped himself halfway through to say, “Wait, isn’t your whole family rich?”

“Well, yeah,” Derek admitted. “They’re some of the few people who actually made the American dream work, you know? But they’ll both admit they started off in a place of privilege, and they give tons to charity. I mean, they started a program to help underprivileged kids, and my dad is in one of those biker groups that helps protect abused children and rescue animals and stuff. They are amazingly awesome people, and the fact that I have the family money has allowed me to pursue my academic career in a way that I know a lot of other people can’t.”

“Can you condemn capitalism while still benefiting from it?” Stiles asked, mostly rhetorically, and they were on the phone another hour after that.

When he finally hung up, because he had talked himself hoarse and his stomach was growling and he kind of had to use the bathroom, he stared down at the phone and thought about how much trouble he was in.

~ ~ ~ ~

“I’m out, see you later!” Kate shouted as she headed for the front door.

Derek scrambled to his feet and caught up with her just as she reached it. “Hey, where are you off to?”

“You’re not my dad,” Kate scoffed.

“I didn’t say I was, but - ” Derek had to fight for composure. “But we have tickets to the Giants game, remember? They’re playing the Padres. You said - ”

“Oh, that,” Kate said, rolling her eyes. “I forgot. Anyway, Chrissy called and asked if I wanted to go shopping. Hey, that reminds me, let me grab your AmEx Plat card; I don’t know how much money is in my checking right now.”

Derek was so stunned that he went for his wallet before his brain kicked back into gear. He had to stop himself from just handing the card over. “Look, are you going to be back in time for the game? It’s not like these tickets are free. They’re good seats. I bought one for you because I asked you if you wanted to go and you said yes.”

“Yeah, but that was before I knew Chrissy was going to want to go shopping,” Kate said. “Baseball is the most boring sport known to man; I only said I would go so you wouldn’t have to go by yourself, all alone and pathetic.”

“Gee, thanks,” Derek said.

“C’mon, babe. I’ll buy something sexy.” Kate winked at him. “Gimme the card.”

Derek took it out of his wallet and handed it over, not wanting to continue an argument when he knew he was going to lose. “Okay, well, I’m still going, pathetic or not. So if you get home from shopping and I’m not here, that’s where – ”

“Cool. Laters!” Kate headed out the door without waiting for him to finish his sentence. Derek scowled at the driveway as she got into her car and zoomed away. Then he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face before getting out his phone and dialing his sister.

Laura couldn’t go because her daughter had a friend’s birthday party; Cora and Isaac were both working. He considered calling Peter but he knew his uncle hated baseball and wouldn’t be caught dead at a game. He thought about calling Boyd but decided against it; he knew he was spending almost every weekend doing wedding prep.

After a silent debate over whether it would be worse to go by himself or just give up and stay home, he went to get in the shower. Screw Kate anyway. He could still enjoy the game. He was just about to set down his phone when it buzzed with an incoming text. He looked down to see that it was from Stiles. ‘Went to look up that book about dragons during the Napoleonic wars that you recommended and realized I didn’t remember the title, send help’.

Derek huffed out a quiet laugh, then texted back, ‘His Majesty’s Dragon’. Then a thought occurred to him, and he added, ‘Hey, you like baseball, right?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘I have a spare ticket to the Giants’ game today, if you’re not busy. Kate and I were going to go but – ’ Derek stopped himself from typing ‘she finked out on me’ and instead went with, ‘something came up and she can’t go’.

‘That’d be sweet!’ Stiles texted back a bare moment later, and Derek had to let out a breath of relief that he hasn’t realized he was holding. ‘I mean, presuming that you’re offering to give me the ticket, not sell me the ticket. ‘Cause I don’t have that kind of dough.’

‘Yeah, I know. But I don’t want it to go to waste.’

‘Awesome,’ Stiles replied. ‘Were you gonna drive in?’

‘I figured I’d take BART in from Richmond. I can pick you up on the way to the station if you want. Need to leave in about 30.’

‘Cool, I’ll be ready,’ Stiles texted, and then the next text was his address, and then, ‘Just text me when you get here, my dad works nights.’

‘Okay,’ Derek said. He ducked into the shower and when he got out, surveyed his collection of jeans and shirts. After a minute that was altogether too long, he remembered with a jolt that this wasn’t a date. What he wore didn’t matter in the slightest. Even if Stiles was interested in him that way – which he probably wasn’t – he had a soulmate already. He had a _wife_.

He grabbed the pair of jeans and shirt that were on top, dressed quickly, and pulled on his shoes. He let his phone guide him to Stiles’ house. Stiles barreled out the front door a few minutes later and dove into the front seat of the Camaro. “Hey! What’s up? Thanks for asking me along.”

“I’m glad you were free,” Derek said. “I know it was short notice but I hated to let the ticket go to waste.”

“My social life isn’t exactly overflowing,” Stiles said. “Where’s Kate at? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she just.” Derek glanced away as he turned off Stiles’ street. The fact that Stiles has automatically assumed Kate not going means something’s _wrong_ makes the bitterness he had been trying to suppress well back up into his throat. “Uh, a friend of hers ended up coming to town for the weekend.” That wasn’t exactly true, but it wasn’t exactly false, either.

Stiles, thankfully, doesn’t push the issue. “Well, I’m psyched. I’ve never been to a Major League game before.”

“Yeah?” That amused Derek, and he felt himself loosen up a little. “I’ll buy you a hot dog, then.”

“If you spend whatever obscene amount of money they charge on a hot dog I could literally buy at Costco for a buck for me, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“They’re not _that_ expensive,” Derek said.

“Spoken like a man who’s never had to budget in his life,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes, and then added, “‘I mean, it’s one banana. What could it cost, ten dollars?’”

Derek laughed at the reference despite himself. “I’ll have you know that I shop at the Kroger just like a normal human being. I’ve even been known to set foot in a Target on occasion. But this is a special occasion, and hot dogs taste better in the stadium.”

“If you say so,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. Then he added, “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a dick, but money’s been tight for me and my dad for a long time, so it gives me the heebs when I see people just throw money around on luxuries. But that’s a me problem, not a you problem, so I’ll keep it to myself.”

“It’s fine,” Derek said. “You said your dad was a sheriff, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. County sheriff for over fifteen years. Then he got hurt, when I was thirteen. Some crazy asshole stabbed him during a liquor store robbery. My dad wasn’t on duty, he just happened to be there at the time, so – ” Stiles looked out the window, his voice going a little monotone. “So Work Comp wouldn’t pick up the tab, and the health insurance he had at the time got maxed out pretty fast. This was before Obamacare, and there was a lifetime cap, and since my mom had been sick for a couple years before she died – long story made short, my college fund got eaten up, we almost lost the house, and now he works nights as a security guard. I could get my own place, but I like to keep an eye on him, so it makes more sense for me to live at home while I save up for the academy.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Derek said, feeling awkward.

“No, it’s fine. Like I said, it’s a me problem. It’s hard to explain to a thirteen-year-old that there just isn’t money anymore to go to the movies with friends, or throw a birthday party at Dave and Buster’s. My dad hated letting people pay for things, and it sort of rubbed off on me. Anyway,” Stiles waved this off and changed the subject before things could get more uncomfortable, “do you go to the games a lot?”

“Usually only one or two per season,” Derek said.

They end up talking about sports most of the way to the station. Stiles had played lacrosse fairly seriously in high school, but said he had never really been that great at it. Derek had been more of a basketball person in his youth, so baseball was the only sport they had in common. But they both knew a lot about baseball, so there was plenty for them to talk about.

“Man, I haven’t been to the city in ages,” Stiles said, as they boarded the train, which was packed. “My mom used to bring me down here to see the buffalo and go to the museums and stuff. My dad wasn’t really into that stuff the way she was, and I didn’t want him to do stuff he didn’t enjoy, so we didn’t come very often. Last time I was here was for my senior class trip, I think.”

“I don’t really like the city, to be honest,” Derek said. “It’s just too busy and loud and crowded.”

“More of a country boy,” Stiles said with a nod. “I can totally see that about you.”

Derek flushed pink, although he wasn’t sure why. The train was really too crowded to have much of a conversation, and then they were at the stadium and Stiles was oohing and ahhing over everything. Derek did buy him a hot dog and a beer, just on general principle.

The game was great, and both of them enjoyed themselves immensely, and Derek found himself intensely glad that Kate had backed out on him. She didn’t really enjoy stuff like this, only doing it occasionally if Derek asked her, and he knew she would have spent most of the game playing on her phone and making him feel bad for dragging her along.

They talked about the game most of the way home, and when Derek dropped Stiles off at home, he found that he couldn’t stop smiling.

~ ~ ~ ~

“So, I was wondering if you might do something for me that might seem a little awkward,” Derek says, as he sets down a stack of books on the counter in front of Stiles.

“What’s up?” Stiles asks, since he’s pretty sure that the response of ‘I would literally die for you’ isn’t something he should say to someone he’s only known a month, who is already happily married to their soulmate.

“Would you be willing to answer a few questions about your lack of soulmate?” Derek asks, somewhat hesitantly, and the words hit Stiles in the gut, harder than they should. He should be used to this by now. People ask him rude, invasive questions all the time. At least Derek is asking permission first. “I know it’s not any of my business. It’s just, it could really help with my thesis. Peter’s the only other person I’ve found without one, and it would be helpful to compare his answers with somebody else’s, because he’s not, you know, a typical person. He’s actually kind of a dick.”

Stiles gives a snort of laughter at that. “Yeah, sure. Just not here, you know?”

“You could come over to my place, it’s not far,” Derek says. “Or if you didn’t want to, we could sit down somewhere else private.”

Stiles starts to say that Derek’s place is fine, but hesitates. Does he really want to see where Derek lives? Look at the framed photographs of his wedding, see the style and luxury that the one percent lives in? “How about we grab a coffee when I get off shift?”

“Sure,” Derek says. “Six o’clock, right? I’ll wait out front.”

“Okay.” Stiles goes back to filing books. He was torn between looking forward to spending time with Derek, and dreading the idea of answering questions about what a freak he was. He knew that Derek would treat the subject academically, but that didn’t make as much of a difference as it should have.

A few hours later, he sat down and let Derek buy him a latte, ‘in payment’, as Derek put it. He held the cup tightly between his hands, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. Derek noticed immediately and said, “Stiles, you don’t have to do this. I know it must be something that’s hard to talk about.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Stiles said, forcing a smile. “Excited to be part of academia. What actually _is_ your thesis, by the way?”

“It’s, uh . . .” Derek was the one who was uncomfortable now, shifting slightly in his seat. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t actually have a thesis, per se. I mean. I started researching the soulmate stuff and I figured I’d come up with one, but . . .”

“But you’re still waiting?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah. I guess there was one I had in mind but I didn’t find any evidence it was true.” Derek saw Stiles’ raised eyebrows and said, “I wanted to find people who didn’t seem to match with their soulmates, and find a commonality. Only, I couldn’t find anyone who didn’t match, so . . .”

“You found at least one, though, didn’t you?” Stiles asked. “I mean, why would you choose that as a thesis, otherwise?”

“Okay, yeah. Just the one.” Derek cleared his throat. “Anyway, uh, do you mind if I record your answers?”

Stiles shrugged. “Shoot.”

Derek took out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. “So prior to the ceremony, did you have any warning that you didn’t have a soulmate?”

“Nope. I was just your average kid.”

“Is there any history of atypical soulmates in your family? Any platonic or filial soulmates?”

“No, although . . .” Stiles shrugged. “My family is pretty small. My dad has one sister and my mom was an only child. None of my grandparents had a lot of siblings. So it’s not like there’s a really big extended family to look at.”

Derek nodded and made a note. Then he put his pencil down and said, “So why do you think you don’t have one? What’s your theory?”

“Honestly?” Stiles felt the bitterness well up in his throat and swallowed it down. “That there’s an odd number of people in the world and I just drew the fucking short straw. What’s your uncle’s theory?”

“That he’s so amazing, nobody can measure up,” Derek said with a snort. “So you think it’s random?”

“I think . . . believing that it’s random is better than believing the universe has it out for me specifically.” Stiles took a drink of his coffee. “What’s your theory?”

Derek was quiet for a moment before he said, “That sometimes the system gets it wrong.”

Stiles blinked in surprise. “Whoa. You really think that?”

“Yeah. It’s why I started researching it in the first place. I wanted to know whether or not the system could make a mistake, whether or not it was foolproof. And you’re the first – well, the second – piece of evidence that maybe sometimes it does. The second in four years of research.”

“What was the first piece?” Stiles asked, but then realized that the answer was obvious. “It’s you, huh? The person who doesn’t match with their soulmate.”

Derek slowly stirred his coffee. “I’ve got four siblings, right? And all of them have met their soulmates, and they’re just so perfect for each other. My parents share the kind of love that humankind should aspire to. Everyone I’ve ever met has said that the moment they met their soulmate, they just clicked. But I didn’t feel that. Kate is just so different from me. She doesn’t care about the things I care about, doesn’t view the world in anything close to the same way. I’ve never really understood why.”

“What’s she like?” Stiles said. “I mean, actually.”

“She’s . . .” Derek’s voice trailed off. “Smart and confident and assertive. She always knows exactly what she wants and she’ll do what it takes to get it. Which is a good thing, sometimes. It’s just not _me_. She’s a thrill seeker, an adrenaline junkie, whereas I’d rather be home with a good book and a mug of tea.”

“You still married her, though?”

“I did. She just . . . not long after I turned nineteen and had my official ceremony, she asked, ‘so when are we getting married?’ I was flustered and told her to just pick a date, so she did. She arranged everything, told me when and where to show up. The idea of arguing with her never really occurred to me. She’s my soulmate. Getting married is what we were supposed to do, so I did it.”

Stiles thought about all of this for a minute before he said, “I’m sorry, man. That sounds like it really blows.”

“Yeah,” Derek said. “I mean, I don’t want to make it sound like I have a horrible life. Honestly sometimes I don’t even see her for weeks, which is another point on which I feel like we’re kind of incompatible. It’s not like things are awful. It’s just that they’re not _good_ , and I don’t get it. I don’t understand why it would happen that way.”

“Me neither,” Stiles said, because he didn’t want to say what he was thinking, which was that Derek was amazing and perfect and deserved the best soulmate in the world. He cleared his throat and said, “So, uh, the second piece of evidence? That wasn’t your uncle?”

Derek gave a snort. “I asked my uncle ‘why do you think you don’t have a soulmate’ and he said ‘because I’m better than everyone else’ and I thought ‘yeah, that tracks’.”

Stiles laughed. “I should meet this guy sometime.”

“He’d eat you alive.”

“I might enjoy that,” Stiles said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I can usually find companionship when I really need it. There are people out there who have platonic soulmates, or whose soulmates are still underage and are up for a casual thing until they meet. But nobody is ever really interested in more than a one-night stand here and there.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Stiles finished off his coffee. “Some people think it must be liberating. Like, I can do anything I want, be with anyone I want. I met a guy on a message board once who was talking about how at least I got to make a choice. But I don’t, because there’s nobody I can choose.”

“Have you ever met anybody you would choose?” Derek asked.

Stiles flushed pink a little. “Well, I mean, as a soulmate, maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. I’ve never really gotten to know anyone well enough to decide whether or not they would be my soulmate. I’ve met a few people I would have chosen to get to know that well, but they weren’t interested, so that was that.”

“Yeah,” Derek murmured, not meeting his gaze. After a moment, he said, “Uh, that’s really all. For my research, I mean.” He tapped his phone to turn off the recorder. “So, uh, the second Black Panther movie is coming out this weekend and I was thinking about grabbing tickets opening night, if you want to see it, too.”

Stiles thought about asking if it was remotely possible that Kate might not want to see Black Panther 2, but decided he didn’t want the answer. “Yeah, a few of my friends were going to go, too, maybe you could join us?”

Derek ducked his chin but then looked up with a shy smile. “Sounds good.”

~ ~ ~ ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rescue Ink is a real organization, although as far as I know they're only in NYC. I'm just pretending Aaron Hale opened his own chapter in California. =D

 

“Where the hell have you been?” Kate snapped, as soon as Derek came in from the garage. She was lounging on the sofa with a fashion magazine, and he stopped and blinked at her in confusion. “It’s after midnight!”

“I went out to see Black Panther 2,” Derek said. “I told you that.”

“That was at six thirty!” Kate retorted. “I know movies are getting longer, but let’s not get ridiculous.”

Derek was still confused, and verging towards annoyed. “Yeah. The movie got out around nine. I went out for drinks afterwards with the friends I was seeing it with. I texted you to let you know, and I texted you again around eleven saying I’d probably be home a little after twelve.”

“Oh, did you?” Kate picked up her phone, glanced at her texts, and then dropped it back on the side table. “Okay. Never mind, then.”

Derek waited to see if she was going to apologize for biting his head off, and it quickly became clear that she wasn’t. It stung more than usual because he knew Kate was on her phone all the time. She couldn’t have missed the messages unless she was deliberately ignoring him. That was bad enough, but then to snap at him without even thinking that she might have missed a text –

He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it go. Kate was the way Kate was, and nothing was going to change that. “I’m going to shower and head to bed,” he said.

“Are you, now,” Kate said, looking up with a gleam in her eye.

Derek headed for the bathroom without another word. He found himself praying that she wasn’t horny. That couldn’t be healthy, he knew that, but sex with Kate just wasn’t something he enjoyed. He had at the beginning, but as the years went by she had gotten more demanding, more critical of his performance, even cruel at times. He didn’t know if he was really that bad or if she was just incredibly difficult to please. After a few grueling conversations, he had given up on getting the answer.

With that in mind, he practically raced through his shower, and the bedroom was still empty when he got to it. He let out a quiet sigh of relief and crawled into bed. His mind drifted immediately to the enjoyable evening he’d had. Stiles had been going to the movie with his friend Scott, along with his soulmate Kira. Derek had asked if it was okay if Cora and Isaac came along, since they both wanted to see it, and then ended up inviting Erica and Boyd as well. So it was a huge group of them. The movie had been amazing. They’d gone to a bar down the street and had drinks and wings and mozzarella sticks. It was the most fun he’d had with anyone not in his family since he could remember.

Stiles seemed more relaxed in the large group, and Derek got to see him in his element, joking around and laughing. He was gorgeous when he laughed, and Derek knew he shouldn’t dwell on that, but he couldn’t help it. He reminded himself for the umpteenth time that he was a married man and that nothing could happen between himself and Stiles. For the umpteenth time, it didn’t help.

He thought back to when he had first started researching soulmates, to every single couple that had been thrown in his face as evidence that the system worked. Even people who weren’t interested in a romantic or sexual relationship had the perfect soulmate. Even people whose soulmates had died young said they wouldn’t have given up the chance to be with them. He remembered being twenty and sitting in the library, reading book after book after book that told him that the system worked and the system worked and the system _worked_.

Except now, maybe, he’s found somebody else for whom it didn’t.

Maybe Stiles was right. Maybe he was just unlucky. Or maybe Peter was right, and maybe Stiles was so special, so amazing, that nobody in the world could match up with him. Derek could have believed that of Stiles (although he was still on the fence about Peter). The problem was, he desperately wanted that to be wrong. He wanted to wake up in the morning and find Stiles’ name on his wrist instead of Kate’s. He wanted the system to be wrong.

He remembered about a year prior, getting drunk at a family barbecue and confiding shame-facedly to Laura that he didn’t understand why he couldn’t make things with Kate work. He wanted them to work. He wanted to have the beautiful, comfortable relationship with Kate that Laura had with Jordan, that Cora had with Isaac. There were times when it seemed like he was bending over backwards to please Kate, but nothing he did made her stop being condescending or dismissive or outright cruel to him.

Laura, who had been just as drunk, had shrugged and said, “That’s because Kate’s a bitch. You can’t make Kate not a bitch, no matter how hard you try. If your relationship sucks, it’s her fault. So stop trying to make her happy and start trying to make _you_ happy.”

“Why would my soulmate be a bitch?” Derek had asked, close to tears from sheer frustration.

“I dunno, Der,” Laura had said, taking a pull at her beer and staring at the sky. “I really don’t know.”

Derek rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He had tried to take Laura’s advice, at least a little. He couldn’t make Kate not be Kate, so he walked away from her when she got too mean. He couldn’t make Kate not be Kate, so he gave her the money she wanted instead of starting arguments about how he wasn’t there to be her personal ATM. That had seemed to help Kate, at least. She became more cheerful and easy-going. Derek was happy that she spent less time making fun of his books and his plants, but it didn’t solve the root problem. He wasn’t sure anything could.

Finally, he drifted off to sleep.

He slept later than he meant to, because he didn’t set an alarm and wasn’t really eager to get out of bed. He had no plans, and Kate didn’t either, though she wasn’t the sort of person to plan ahead. He hoped she found something to do, so they wouldn’t be home together all day. That always, one hundred percent of the time, led to arguments.

When he checked his phone, he saw that he had a text from Stiles. His heart jumped into his throat in an altogether inappropriate manner. It pounded even harder when he saw the text. ‘Hey! Wanna hang today? Elephant seals have taken over Drakes Beach and I want to see if I can get pictures.’

Derek nearly cracked up at the idea of Stiles creeping up on the seals with his camera at the ready. ‘Didn’t they close the beach?’

‘Yeah but they’re letting small groups of visitors in,’ Stiles replies.

Derek was about to reply, formulating his response so he didn’t seem over-eager, when Kate came into the bedroom. “You’re still in bed?” she greeted him, but didn’t wait for him to reply. “Could you get your ass up? I’ve asked you to take out the trash twice and you still haven’t done it.”

“When did you ask me to do that?” Derek asked, scowling.

“Last night, before you went to bed, and yesterday before you went out.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did!” Kate huffed in annoyance. “Anyway, I shouldn’t have to ask you. Just be a man and take it out when it’s full.”

Derek was about to say something but his phone buzzed again and he looked down to see Stiles had said, ‘No biggie if you’re not into it, I just figured I would ask’.

“Who are you texting?” Kate asked, as Derek practically dropped his phone in his haste to reassure Stiles that he would love to go see the seals.

“Stiles. My friend from the library.” Derek climbed out of bed and added, “Do you have plans today? I’m going out.”

“Take the trash out before you go,” Kate said, and left the bedroom without answering his question.

~ ~ ~ ~

Stiles was waiting for Derek’s reply more anxiously than he wanted to admit, which caused him to send a second message to reassure Derek that if he _wasn’t_ an enormous nerd interested in seeing elephant seals up close in the wild, that was perfectly normal. The response to that came quickly, at least. ‘Sry, was talking to Kate. Absolutely want to go see seals. Pick you up in about an hour?’

With a sigh of relief, Stiles replied, ‘Sounds good. I’m not sure Roscoe could handle that trip.’

‘I’ll text you before I leave here,’ Derek said, and Stiles did a quiet fist pump.

There was no reason he should be this excited. It was kind of stupid, really. He and Derek were just friends, and all they were ever going to be was friends. He was looking forward to this trip way too much.

But despite his inner voice telling him that he needed to calm the hell down, they ended up having a great time. They were both classic rock fans, and Derek’s Camaro made the drive a breeze. They talked about the Marvel ‘verse and other movies that had come out recently while they drove. The seals were amazing and magnificent and Derek didn’t make him of him for being overenthusiastic _once_ , which put him above almost everyone else Stiles had ever met. They grabbed some tacos and ate on a different beach before heading back to Beacon Hills.

“See you at the library,” Derek said, waving as Stiles got out of the car.

He did see Derek at the library, and they texted back and forth most of Tuesday night, and then Kate went out of town for one of her tournaments and Derek was obviously lonely so Stiles asked if he wanted to grab a bite to eat on Thursday, and then it was the weekend again and neither of them had plans so they hung out Saturday, shooting some hoops and talking about books and then going out to eat again.

“I’m so screwed,” Stiles said to himself as Derek drove away from his house for the third time in a week.

“What have you been up to?” his father asked as he dropped his stuff off in the front hallway. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Yeah, I’ve been, uh, hanging out with Derek. You know, from the library.”

“Uh huh,” Noah said, arching his eyebrows at Stiles.

Stiles grabbed a mug of coffee from the kitchen and then slumped into the chair across from his father at the dining room table. He fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves for a long moment before he said, “Have you ever, uh, felt some way about someone that you knew you shouldn’t?”

Noah, who hadn’t been a detective for twenty years for nothing, replied, “You mean, have I ever developed romantic feelings for someone already in a relationship?”

“Yeah,” Stiles muttered, already knowing the answer was no.

“Once, yeah,” Noah said, and Stiles practically choked on his coffee. “It was lonely after your mother died. I went on a few dates with other people who had lost their soulmates. Then I met a woman through work who still had her soulmate. She was an amazing, wonderful person, and I found myself wanting to spend a lot of time with her, going out of my way to do things for her, thinking about her constantly.”

“How did you handle it?” Stiles asked.

“Fortunately for me, she was a consultant, not another officer, so I didn’t have to work with her long-term. When the case was over, we went our separate ways.”

Stiles sighed. “That’s not very helpful.”

“Sorry.” Noah reached out and tousled his hair. “Look. It’s obvious that you really like Derek, and he seems to like you, if only as a friend. But it might be a good idea if you cooled things down a little. I don’t want you to end up with your heart broken.”

“What does it matter?” Stiles asked, bitterness seeping into his voice. “What’s the point in keeping my heart intact when there’s nobody who’s going to want it?”

“Come on, Stiles.” Noah was the one who sighed at that. “I know that I don’t understand what it’s like for you to not have a soulmate. But there’s no reason to think you’re going to be alone forever. There are plenty of people out there like me who have lost their soulmates, who might be looking for companionship.”

“I don’t want to be someone’s second choice,” Stiles said.

“Would that be better or worse than being nobody’s choice?” Noah replied.

Stiles said nothing, because his father was right, and they had had this conversation more times than he could remember. It always ended the same way, with him agreeing to meet some widows or widowers and see if any sparks flew, then not doing that. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t live second to someone’s memory.

“I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t be friends with him,” Noah said, when it became clear that Stiles wasn’t going to say anything. “Just try to remind yourself that friends is all you’ll be.”

“But what if he and his soulmate don’t get along?” Stiles blurted out.

“What if what?” Noah asked, truly startled and confused at this new line of questioning.

Stiles squirmed. “It’s, you know, possible. Theoretically.”

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, now I’m _definitely_ worried. If you’re trying to convince yourself of that, you’re in way too deep. You need to go out on a date with somebody single, stat. I don’t care if they’re seventy years old.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, relieved that he had managed to keep Derek’s secret, even if it meant his father was going to set him up with a septuagenarian. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’ll post on one of those online support groups for people who have lost their soulmates, see if there are any meet-and-greets around here.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Noah squeezed his shoulder again. “I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said, and sighed. “I’m gonna go play some video games, and leave my phone here so I’m not tempted to text Derek all night. Thanks, Dad.”

~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey, Scotty, what’s up?” Stiles says when he picks up the phone.

“Can you do me a huge favor?” Scott asks. “Dr. Deaton has a booth down at the spring festival and we’re bringing a bunch of dogs for the adoption booth, and Liam was supposed to help me out today but Hayden’s sick and in the hospital and anyway, long story short, you wanna come help me load fifteen dogs into an SUV?”

Stiles gives a snort of laughter. “Sure. I’ll even take some of the dogs in the Jeep.”

“Cool. See you in fifteen?”

“Sure.” Stiles hangs up, grabs a Red Bull from the refrigerator, and leaves his dad a note so he won’t be confused when he gets up. He pulls on his sneakers and heads out the door.

Twenty minutes later, he’s heading down to the park with two Shih Tzus, a Pomeranian, and a beagle in his back seat, as well as a husky in the front who is intent on helping him drive. Deaton is already there and has set up the booth. The entire park is filled with vendors from different animal organizations, as well as the typical food stands that accompany any outside event.

“Hey, thanks for the help,” Scott says, when he pulls up in his own car with his passel of dogs. “You don’t have to stay if you’ve got stuff to do.”

“Well, I’m here, I might as well check out the festival,” Stiles says. “Maybe grab a churro. You want anything?”

“I’m good,” Scott says, wrestling with the husky.

Stiles had always liked animals, and had wanted a pet for most of his life, but aside from the unfortunate boa incident when he was eight, had never had one. His father was allergic to both dogs and cats, and although Stiles wouldn’t say no to a lizard if one dropped into his lap (like the boa had), he had never cared enough to go out and buy one. He had been thinking lately about getting a rat; he had read that they were much smarter and more cuddly than most people believed. Since he had nothing in particular to do, he decided to see if there were any other rodent owners at the fair.

He had been walking around for about fifteen minutes when he heard a little girl crying, and glanced over to see a man who looked like he had just stepped out of a movie. He was at least six foot four and broad in the shoulders, dressed in biker clothes, and had an impressive beard. Stiles recognized him instantly as the local celebrity he was: Aaron Hale. That wasn’t why the girl was crying, though; Aaron was walking two battle-scarred pit bulls, and the girl was now hiding behind her mother’s leg.

“No, they’re sweethearts, I promise you,” Aaron was saying as Stiles approached. “I know they look scary, but they’re the most cuddly dogs you’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Hale . . .” the mother said uncertainly.

One of the dogs saw Stiles, or perhaps more importantly, his churro, and started trotting towards him on the little bit of slack Aaron was affording on the leash. The little girl started crying again, clearly thinking that Stiles was about to be mauled, and Stiles dropped to his knees and started cooing, “Who’s a good boy? Are you a good boy?” while holding his churro out of reach. The dog started wuffling his face and licking his chin, and Stiles rubbed behind his ears. “Awww, who’s the goodest of boys?”

“She’s the goodest of girls, actually,” Aaron said, smiling. The little girl stopped crying, the other dog came over to start loving on Stiles, and he shoved the last of his churro in his mouth before they could get to it.

“I still think we’re going to go with something smaller,” the mother said, before shuffling her daughter away.

Aaron shrugged a little and returned his attention to Stiles. “Looking for a dog?”

“No, my dad’s allergic, unfortunately,” Stiles said. “I just like to come make some friends, that’s all.” He scratched under the pit bull’s chin, and she started licking him again. “These two look like they’ve seen some hard times. Are they from that fighting ring that got broken up six months ago?”

“Oh, you heard about that?” Aaron was clearly surprised.

“My dad used to be a cop, and all his friends are still cops, so yeah, anything illegal goes down around here and I hear about it over breakfast,” Stiles said. “I’d heard they were being rehabilitated.”

“Yeah, we took them in over at Rescue Ink,” Aaron said.

Stiles got back on his feet before the pit bull could lick away all his skin cells. “That is the most awesomely badass organization, by the way. In case nobody has ever told you that.”

Aaron grinned. “I actually hear it pretty often, but never mind hearing it again. Want to come meet the rest of the crew?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” Stiles said.

The adoption stand for Rescue Ink was crowded with people and animals. Stiles immediately set about making friends with four other pit bulls, rescues from the same fighting ring. “Oh, hey, Stiles!” a friendly voice said a moment later, and he looked up to see Laura. “How’s the Jeep?”

“Still running, which is all I ask of it on any given day,” Stiles said.

Laura laughed and half-turned to the woman she was standing with, who was a few inches taller and holding a tabby cat in her arms. “Mom, this is Stiles, Derek’s friend from the library.”

“The young man whose car was duct taped together!” Talia Hale replied, laughing, and several other people laughed too.

Stiles couldn’t help but feel stung, surrounded by these rich people who drove fancy cars and owned businesses, making fun of his admittedly pathetic attempts to keep Roscoe alive. “Well, you know, anything to keep her going.”

“I’m sorry,” Talia said, and she stopped laughing immediately. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Duct tape or no, it’s impressive that you’ve still got a car that old that works. Most people would have traded it in ages ago.”

“It belonged to my mother,” Stiles said, and Talia’s face softened further. “My dad taught me how to do the basic maintenance on it, and, you know, it’s a tough old thing.” He was about to try to change the subject when Daisy, the pit bull, jumped up on him and started enthusiastically licking his face. He laughed and said, “I already told you, I can’t bring you home, sweetheart.”

“You know,” Aaron says, “there are some dogs that don’t cause problems for people with allergies, or at least nowhere near as badly. Poodles are good for that, and they’re really pretty smart. Plus if you were thinking about cats, there are hairless cat breeds, although it can be pretty hard to find Sphinxes and Rexes in rescue . . .”

“I’ve actually been thinking about getting a rat,” Stiles said, and almost winced, waiting for them to make fun of him.

“Oh, rats are _great_ pets!” a new voice said, and Cora plopped down next to him. “I’ve kept rats ever since I was little. The only drawback to a rat is their shorter lifespan. Oh, and they’re super social, it’s better if you get two.”

Stiles ended up chatting with her for a while about rats, and about animal rescue in general, and he was still sitting there (now with a cat on his lap) when Derek walked up with another man behind him. “Hey, fancy meeting you here,” Stiles said. “Your sister’s been telling me about her pet rats.”

“Oh,” Derek said, blinking a little, still clearly taken aback to find Stiles sitting with his family as if he’s part of it. “Hi. How did you . . .?”

Since he was clearly trying to avoid asking rude questions, Stiles said, “I was helping my friend Scott, who works for Dr. Deaton. Then I figured I might as well wander around, and met your dad and the pit bulls, and then we wound up talking about rats. It was like a whole thing.”

“Oh,” Derek said again. The man behind him cleared his throat, somehow sounding amused. “Oh, uh, this is my Uncle Peter. Peter, this is Stiles. I, uh, might have mentioned him.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, seeing that Derek was still trying to tiptoe around tender subjects. He stood up and handed the cat off to Derek, saying, “Yeah, pretty sure you would have mentioned the guy you met without a soulmate to the only other guy in California without one.” He extended a hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Peter said, his gaze traveling up and down Stiles’ body like he was a buffet and Peter was trying to decide where to start.

Stiles felt his cheeks flush pink. Derek was amazing and awesome and he hardly wanted to shop around, but – Peter was almost as handsome as his nephew, and more importantly, Peter didn’t have a soulmate who might get in the way of anything that would happen. That made him think of something else. “Oh, is Kate here? I still haven’t met her.”

“No, she isn’t,” Derek said. “She doesn’t like animals.”

Stiles blinked at him, blinked at all the animals surrounding them, blinked at the booth for the animal rescue organization that Aaron Hale had founded, blinked at the cat that had now nestled in Derek’s arms and was purring contentedly, and blurted out, “Dude, you weren’t kidding when you said she isn’t a good match for you!”

Someone gave a quiet gasp, and the booth went quiet. Stiles felt himself go from pink to red, and Derek was blushing, too, not meeting his gaze. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Stiles said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That just – slipped out, that was so incredibly rude, I’m going to go find a place to drown myself – ”

“It’s fine, Stiles,” Derek murmured. “I mean. It’s not. It’s not like.”

He clearly couldn’t find a way to finish his sentence, and Peter intervened here, smoothly saying, “Well, I for one was thinking of getting a lemonade. Stiles, maybe you could come help me carry some drinks?”

“Yes, sure, absolutely,” Stiles said, practically tripping over himself in the effort to get away from the land mine he had just stepped on.

Peter took him by the elbow and drew him through the crowd. Once they were in line at the lemonade stand, he said matter-of-factly, “It’s nothing the rest of us haven’t thought, you know. Derek’s two youngest siblings, Cora and Nathan, were pretty outspoken about it when she first turned up. She’s nothing like Derek, and she treats him like something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe. Everyone in the family hates her – we’re just _usually_ smart enough not to say so out loud. In fact, I’m a little relieved to hear that Derek is aware of it himself.”

Stiles flushed pink again. “Jesus. He’s never going to speak to me again, and I’m gonna deserve it.”

Peter shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”

“You think so?” Stiles said, giving Peter the side eye.

“He’s forgiven me for saying worse.”

“Yeah, but – you’re family. That’s different.”

Peter gave a somewhat dramatic roll of his eyes. “Yes, I’m family. That means I know him. Which means that I’m in a position to say that once we have the drinks, if you walk back over there and don’t make a big deal out of it, and instead ask him about something else he’s interested in, he’ll let it go without further commentary.”

“If you say so,” Stiles said. He still felt pretty unsure, but he really didn’t want to give up his friendship with Derek, so when they got back, he handed Derek a lemonade and said, “So do you help out with the rescue at all?”

“Yeah, I help Dad exercise the dogs.” Derek looked relieved to have something else to talk about. “He’s so amazing with them, though. I’ve seen him take the most frightened, aggressive animals and turn them into total sweethearts. I think he can actually talk to them, but so far he denies it.”

Stiles laughed, and they chatted about different kinds of dogs and his renewed interest in getting a rat for a while. After a little while, Cora came over and said, “Hey, we’re gonna go grab some lunch, if you two want to come?”

“Oh, I, uh, is it that late?” Stiles asked, unconvincingly. He didn’t want to go to a family lunch with these people. He had already made things awkward enough. “I’d better get going, actually. It was great to meet you guys.”

“I’ll see you at the library,” Derek said, thankfully letting him bow out without asking any questions.

“See you later!” Stiles said, and practically fled the scene.

~ ~ ~ ~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little Steterish, I must admit, but it's all in the name of Sterek. =D I promise it won't get serious.

Lunch was a little awkward, because everyone was tripping over themselves trying not to mention what had happened with Stiles, or really anything about Stiles at all. Talia just said, “Stiles seems nice,” and Derek made a noncommittal noise in return, and that was it.

It wasn’t until Derek left the table to use the restroom that Laura said, “So Stiles is obviously perfect for Derek, right? What are the odds we can get him to dump Kate and go out with – ”

“Someone who isn’t his soulmate?” Talia interjected. “Come on, Laura. I know that none of us are huge fans of Kate, but let’s try to be realistic.”

“I _am_ being realistic,” Laura said. “There’s no _law_ that says you have to marry your soulmate.”

“Which Derek already did,” Aaron pointed out.

Laura sighed. “I’m just saying, in my personal opinion, if there’s any way we can get Derek away from Kate, we should try. I don’t care what the rest of the world would think about it. I care about my brother.”

“Don’t worry,” Peter said. “I have a plan.”

Talia eyed him suspiciously. “You do?”

“Mm hm.”

“Is it a plan I’d approve of?”

“Oh, definitely not,” Peter said, with a smile.

Talia opened her mouth, but at that point, Derek came back from the restroom, so they had to pretend they were talking about something else. It wasn’t until, as the meal ended and they were leaving, Peter pulled Derek aside. “Can I ask you a question, Derek?”

“Sure,” Derek said, although he looked wary.

“Your friend, Stiles . . . he’s just a friend, right?”

“Of course,” Derek said, his jaw tightening.

“Would it be all right with you if I asked him out?”

Derek’s mouth opened slightly, and just hung that way for a long second before he sputtered, “Of, of course it would be, it’s not, I mean, why would I have a problem with that? You can go out with anyone you want and so can he.”

“All right, then text me his number, would you?” Peter said, with a sunny smile. Derek pushed his way past him, heading for the Camaro.

Talia stepped up beside Peter and the two of them watched him go, and Talia sighed. “That’s your plan? Make him jealous by dating Stiles yourself?”

“From my perspective, it’s win-win,” Peter said, with a shrug. “Either Derek will get jealous, horn his way in, ask Stiles out himself, and give up on that bitch he married. Or, I’ll get to date and probably do more with a truly attractive young man. There’s literally no downside to this.”

“Just do me a favor and don’t say ‘what could go wrong’,” Talia said, shaking her head as she headed for her own car.

~ ~ ~ ~

Stiles was just getting home from his shift at the library when his phone buzzed to indicate an incoming text. He grabbed it and glanced out of the screen as he folded himself out of the Jeep and saw that it was from an unknown but local number. He pulled it up to read, ‘Hello, Stiles, this is Peter. I got your number from Derek; I hope you don’t mind.’

A smile came to his face, unbidden, and he replied, ‘No, for the pleasure of seeing a semi-colon in a text message, it’s all good. What’s up?’

‘Are you free tonight? I’d love to buy you a drink.’

Stiles felt a little flutter in his stomach – or, well, lower than his stomach, really. Derek was awesome and amazing and he was pretty sure that his feelings for him were getting out of control, but Peter – well, Peter was really hot. The idea of having a drink with him and seeing if it went anywhere (particularly somewhere that clothing wasn’t required) was appealing. ‘Sounds fun, I’m in. Where?’

‘How about O’Malley’s?’ Peter texts an address. ‘We can shoot a few rounds of pool if it turns out we have nothing to talk about, to prevent awkward silences.’

Stiles laughed at this. ‘Sure.’

‘Eight thirty?’

‘I’ll be there.’ Stiles jogged into the house and into the kitchen. His father wouldn’t be up for another hour, so he took the opportunity to nuke some chicken nuggets and tater tots for a quick meal, then jumped in the shower. Once safely back in his room, he could hear his father up and moving around while he perused his wardrobe. He didn’t have any ‘date’ clothes. Actually he wasn’t sure what ‘date’ clothes would look like. It wasn’t like dating was something most people did, except in the post-soulmate scene, which he had always avoided.

After a few minutes of dithering, he gave up and pulled on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a plaid. He considered cologne but then remembered he didn’t own any. A quick comb through his hair and he jogged downstairs, where his father was in the kitchen, making himself some breakfast. “Okay, so. If I asked you how I looked, would you worry about why?”

“Yes, yes, I would,” Noah said, not looking up from the coffee grinder.

Stiles took a deep breath and let it out. “I have a date.”

“A date.” Noah gave Stiles his full attention. “With who?”

“Uh, his name is Peter. He’s actually Derek’s uncle. Remember how I told you that part of Derek’s research was inspired by the fact that his uncle doesn’t have a soulmate? Well, when I ran into Derek at the adoption festival, I met his uncle, who’s, uh, in his thirties and actually pretty, uh, he looks like a pretty interesting guy. He texted me and said he got my number from Derek and asked if I wanted to go out for a drink.”

“That’s great, Stiles,” Noah said, clapping him on the back. “Even if it doesn’t lead to anything. I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there.”

“So how do I look?”

“You look fine. Where are you going? Nowhere fancy, I take it,” Noah added.

“No, we’re meeting at O’Malley’s. He said we could get a few drinks and shoot some pool.”

“Have fun,” Noah said.

“Will do.” Stiles headed out to the Jeep, popped a breath mint, and headed for the bar. He had actually been there before; it was close to the campus, and while he hadn’t gone to college, many of his friends had. He wondered if Peter went there often, and decided it would probably make sense. For the soulmate-less, the dating pool – or the fucking pool – was basically two groups. People who had lost their soulmates, who were typically old, and people whose soulmates hadn’t turned nineteen yet, who were typically young. Peter didn’t seem like the type who would want to date sad people in their sixties, so if he was looking for a good time, a college bar was a sensible place to troll for it.

He spotted Peter at the bar, dressed in a V-neck shirt that dipped tantalizingly low and a pair of jeans that enhanced his already amazing ass and decided that yes, this was a great idea. “Hey, good to see you,” he greeted Peter.

Peter’s smile, which seemed to always border on a smirk, did terrible things to Stiles. “Buy you a drink?”

“Only if you won’t make fun of me for liking girly drinks.”

“Girly drinks are terribly maligned by popular culture. They have about three times the alcohol that you’ll find in the average beer.”

“Plus they don’t taste like shit,” Stiles said, and when Peter flagged down the bartender, he ordered a strawberry daiquiri. Peter asked for a tequila sunrise. “Now that’s a fancy drink.”

“I like to keep bartenders on their toes,” Peter said. Stiles saw the bartender roll his eyes, and Peter winked at him. Stiles had to bite back a laugh as the bartender gave them their drinks, and they headed for a table in a corner where there was less noise.

They talked for a little while about the spring festival. Peter wasn’t much of a dog person, he confessed, but instead preferred cats. Somehow that didn’t surprise Stiles in the least. He regularly fostered cats that Aaron’s organization rescued from bad conditions and referred to them as his ‘house guests’, something that amused Stiles to no end.

Stiles told him about working at the library and some of the stupider questions he had gotten. Peter tried to avoid interacting with customers, and worked mainly as an intermediary. “Derek said you were a car salesman?”

“Lord, no,” Peter said. “Technically, I do sell cars. But I’m not a car salesman.”

“Oh, this oughtta be good,” Stiles said.

“I’m in acquisitions,” Peter said. “When somebody wants a specific luxury car, they contact me and I find one for them. The current owner sets the price and the buyer pays it to them directly, and I get a commission. None of this nonsense where I make people sit at a dealership for four hours while I pretend to fight with my manager about what sort of deal I can get them and charge an extra eight hundred dollars for the undercarriage.”

Stiles chortled. “That is such an accurate description of car dealerships. I went with my friend Scott when he was buying a car for the first time and it was the weirdest combination of terror and boredom.”

“The whole thing is ridiculous, especially now that you can go online and see exactly what the car is worth.” Peter shrugged and sipped his drink.

“Is there really a huge demand for what you do, though?” Stiles asked, curious. “Enough to make a living off of?”

“Yes and no,” Peter said. “Most places in the country, no, and most of my business comes out of Los Angeles. But the commission being what it is, two or three sales per month is enough to make a living.”

“That’s revolting,” Stiles said cheerfully. “Capitalism is a disease. What do you do with the rest of your time?”

“Read. Ski. Drink wine. Make friends with filthy rich people so I can find out which ones own exotic pets and then report them to animal rescue organizations.”

Stiles whooped with laughter. “Does that come up often?”

“You would be surprised and most likely appalled. Mostly big cats, but occasionally monkeys or lizards and even an elephant once.”

“Somebody in California legit owned a whole-ass elephant?”

“I’m not sure what a half-ass elephant would look like, so I’m going to say yes.”

They got a second drink and talked about animals and cars and the worst people they’d met. They played two rounds of pool, and Peter wiped the floor with him both times. They got a third drink and talked about books and movies and about why Stiles hadn’t gone to college.

By the time they were finished with the third drink, it was eleven o’clock and the bar was getting annoyingly noisy. Peter asked if Stiles wanted to go out for a drive, and Stiles said sure. He let out a low whistle when he saw Peter’s car. “Man, and I thought Derek’s Camaro was hot.”

Peter gave him that incredibly attractive smirk. “Shelby 1000 Cobra. There are only one hundred in the entire world. I have two.”

“What the hell do you need the second one for?” Stiles asked, arching an eyebrow.

“The first is for driving. The second for display.”

Stiles rolled his eyes so hard that it was a full body motion. “Fucking one-percenter.”

“Rude,” Peter said. “I’m a point-five percenter.”

“That’s not something to brag about!” Stiles told him, but couldn’t help but laugh. The Hales might be filthy rich, but since meeting Derek he had learned a _lot_ about how much the family used their money to help people. Aside from the animal rescue organization they had founded – and Peter’s apparent habit of rescuing ill-treated tigers – they gave tons of money to underprivileged children, funding after school programs and head start. Derek’s older brother Justin was a chef who routinely went into disaster areas to cook for the victims. He could hardly fault them for being rich when they seemed determined to pour as much of their money back into the world as they could.

Despite the car, Peter didn’t zoom around the back country roads in the terrifying manner that Stiles expected. He drove normally, taking them up onto a small mountain where they could see the lights of the city spread out before them, and the faint glow of San Francisco off in the distance. “It’s really nice up here,” Stiles said, leaning against the bumper of the car.

“Mm hm,” Peter said, and leaned in to kiss him. It was a confident kiss, a kind which Stiles hadn’t received much of before. He leaned into it, letting it linger. Peter’s hand caressed his cheek, and the kiss went on for several long my moments before Peter pulled away and said, “My apartment is even nicer.”

“Yeah?” Stiles went for another kiss, and Peter’s fingers trailed down his throat. It felt good, but there was a curl of unease twisting at Stiles’ gut, and he couldn’t quite identify why. He pulled out of the kiss, and Peter leaned in to nuzzle at his neck, nipping at his ear. That felt _really_ good, and for some reason Stiles’ reaction was to pull away further.

At this, Peter pulled back as well. “No?”

Stiles shook his head. “Sorry.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s fine. Come on, I’ll take you back to your car.”

Stiles climbed into the passenger seat, wrestling with his feelings on the matter. It wasn’t like he’d never had sex on a first date. Hell, most of his dates ended in sex. That was basically the point of them – the people he went on dates with were scratching the itch while they waited to meet their soulmate. But it wasn’t like that with Peter. Peter was like him. There was no one to wait for. Anything that happened between them was for keeps. Peter was someone he could have an actual _relationship_ with – and he had no idea whether that was something he wanted or not.

There was no reason not to. Peter was smart and funny, handsome and – somewhat surprisingly – respectful of Stiles’ boundaries. He wasn’t angry that Stiles had turned down the offer of sex. In fact, as they drove back towards Beacon Hills, he had changed the subject and was talking about the car again. Stiles wasn’t really interested, but he knew that Peter was just trying to defuse any awkwardness, and he appreciated it. There was no reason to not want to try for something real with Peter. No reason, except that Peter wasn’t Derek.

Peter pulled up next to the Jeep. “This is your stop.”

“Thanks.” Stiles unbuckled his seat belt. “I, uh, I had a good time,” he said, feeling lame but wanting Peter to know that just because he didn’t want to have sex didn’t mean that he hadn’t enjoyed himself.

“Me too,” Peter said.

Feeling the awkwardness in every cell of his body, Stiles said, “G’night then,” and hopped out of the car before Peter could say anything else.

~ ~ ~ ~

Peter never bothered to set an alarm, because his life wasn’t one that required it. He typically woke around ten or eleven without needing one, took a hot shower, and then checked his e-mail to see if he had anything he needed to attend to. It was a Monday, and Mondays hardly ever had anything going on, as the wealthy recovered from their extravagant weekends.

He didn’t have any e-mail, but he did have a text, from Stiles. They hadn’t spoken since their date on Friday, and he had been wondering if he would get a text. He had already decided he would text Stiles on Monday if he didn’t hear. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Stiles’ retreat from him. The date had been going well, and he had been confident that his attention would be reciprocated. ‘No’ wasn’t something Peter heard often.

The text was simple, reading ‘I had a great time Friday’, and then a second text which read, ‘Free tomorrow? We could grab dinner.’

‘Sounds great,’ Peter replied.

‘You like sushi?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Dynamite Sushi on Glendale and Hill St, six thirty?’

‘I’ll be there,’ Peter replied, before tucking his phone away and settling on the sofa with a book.

Come the next evening, he could see that Stiles was nervous from the minute he entered the small restaurant. “Okay, so,” Stiles said, before they’d done more than greet each other, “this is kind of an apology dinner because I asked you out but it’s not really a date, because I don’t think I want to date you.”

Peter arched his eyebrows, amused despite himself. “Well, that’s a hell of an opener.”

Stiles groaned. “God, I’m sorry. I’m messed up about this whole thing and I’ve been beating the shit out of myself over what happened Friday. It’s not that you aren’t really interesting and gorgeous. I want to _want_ to date you. I just don’t actually want to date you.”

“Because you’re in love with my nephew, presumably?”

Stiles flushed pink and looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die. “Shit. I really am that obvious.”

Peter laughed, and seeing the waitress approaching, says, “Come on. Buy me a drink and we’ll talk.”

“Okay.” Stiles pushes his hands through his hair. He orders them both a drink and they make a few sushi choices. As soon as the drinks have come, he said, “When you asked me out, I thought, this could really be something, you know? I’ve never met anyone else without a soulmate. My dad’s been trying to convince me to try dating people who have lost their soulmates, but it’s just so fucking depressing. Friday night, I was having a great time, but when you kissed me, I realized it just . . . wasn’t what I wanted. And yes, that’s because I’m in love with Derek. I guess I hoped that if I could meet somebody else, maybe I could just _stop_ being in love with Derek. But if you can’t make me stop being in love with him, I don’t think anybody can.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” Peter said. “Now, full disclosure on my part, when I asked you out, it was at least fifty percent with the intention of making Derek jealous so he’d get off his ass and ask you out himself.”

Stiles blinked. “Shit. Really?”

“Absolutely. Not that I wouldn’t want to date you, or even have a relationship with you – though to be honest I’m not really the relationship type – but I figured you weren’t really interested.”

Stiles took a drink and thought this over. “Derek has a soulmate already.”

Peter shrugged. “I couldn’t care less. Derek’s soulmate is a gold-digging bitch who treats him like trash. I want my nephew to be happy. Compared to that, social conventions mean less than zero to me.”

“Don’t you think that’s weird, though?”

“Of course I do. He does, too. He’s been studying the way soulmates work for three damn years trying to figure out why it happened. I followed along at first, but lost interest when he didn’t come up with an answer. To me, the answer about why it happened is less important than doing something about it.”

Stiles shook his head. “He won’t do something about it until he finds the answer, though. That’s the problem. Until he finds the answer, he believes that he _deserves_ Kate.”

Peter grimaced and downed his drink. “That’s a horrifying thought.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. You don’t see it because you, you’re just fucking weird, okay? You never stopped and thought about your lack of soulmate mark as a bad thing, as the universe telling you that you deserve to be alone. You took it as freedom, as superiority. That’s not normal; I hope you know that.”

At this, Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, that’s fair. I’m many things, but normal isn’t one of them.”

“So I, you know, I want Derek to be happy too. If I could make him happy, that would be the best damned thing on the planet. But it doesn’t work like that. I can’t convince him that he should leave Kate just by dating you.”

“I’ll grant that you make good points. But you also don’t know my nephew as well as I do. Being head-over-heels in love with him for two months doesn’t make you an expert. I’ve known him his entire life. I’ll bet you five hundred dollars that if you show up to work with hickeys, he’ll drop everything he’s doing and try to claim you as his territory.”

“Okay, a) I don’t have five hundred dollars to spare, you fucking point-five percenter, and b) I don’t want Derek to piss on me.”

Peter smirked. “I notice that’s not ‘don’t give me hickeys, Peter’.”

Stiles gulped down the rest of his drink. “You really think it would work?”

“I don’t think it would work _instantly_ but I do think it would work.”

“Well . . .”

They ended up making out in Peter’s car, which was one of Peter’s favorite activities. He gave Stiles half a dozen small marks on his neck, enjoying the pleasant sound of his breathing as he clutched at the back of Peter’s shirt. He got into it to the point that Peter was thinking they had to either stop or go back to his apartment before they got arrested for public indecency, before Stiles pulled away.

“Okay, that . . . that should do it,” he managed while trying to catch his breath.

“Most likely,” Peter said. “You want to have dinner now?”

“Sure,” Stiles said.

~ ~ ~ ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whistles innocently*

Derek had to squelch the surge of jealousy that welled up from his stomach to his throat when he saw Stiles at the library help desk, with those too-obvious marks on his neck for the third time in two weeks. He wondered if Stiles genuinely thought the makeup covered the marks Peter had left on him, or if he had done a bad job hiding them on purpose. He had to take a deep breath before he could approach to say hi like usual. Stiles responded with an altogether-too-cheerful, “Hey, what’s up? Doing anything fun this weekend?”

“You look like you’ve had enough fun for both of us,” Derek said, because he could be a reasonable adult here. He was _not_ going to be jealous of Peter. Stiles and Peter having a great time together was a _good_ thing, for both of them.

“Oh, man, is it that obvious?” Stiles rubbed his hand over the back of his neck with an embarrassed laugh. “I could use a few days off from him, though. He’s, uh, he’s a lot.”

Derek thought calming thoughts, that were definitely not about murdering his uncle in a fit of rage. Without thinking, he blurted out, “So what are you doing tonight? I’m dog-and-house-sitting for friends of my dad’s this weekend. They have two German Shepherds who are kind of high-strung and they were going to a wedding and didn’t want to put them in boarding. It’s a super nice place, they’ve got a pool _and_ a hot tub.”

“Nice!” Stiles said. “If that was an invitation, count me in. Cute dogs and a hot tub sounds like a great way to spend a Friday evening.”

“Plus they’ve got like a sixty-eight inch flatscreen.”

“Sweet, I still regret not seeing Lord of the Rings in the theater.”

Derek laughed. “Watching all three Lord of the Rings movies – extended editions, of course – will take like twelve hours.”

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t have plans for tomorrow. Do you?”

“I do now,” Derek said, because really, what could be better than cuddling on a sofa with Stiles and two dogs for twelve hours? “I’ll probably head over in a couple hours. I’ll text you the address; you can meet me there after work.”

“Sounds good,” Stiles said. “Oh, hey, order from Golden Wok and I’ll pick it up on my way.”

“Okay. Text me your order.”

“Will do.”

Derek went over to the study carrels in a better mood. He looked at the laptop and the book and realized he didn’t really have anything to research. He’d basically given up months ago; he was really only still going to the library to see Stiles. He sighed a little, looking at the spine of the book, which read, ‘The Genetics of the Perfect Match’. He had read it three times. Nothing in it explained why Kate was his soulmate.

He snuck out of the library through the back so Stiles wouldn’t see him go, then texted him the address of the house of his father’s friends. Aaron could have done this himself, and Derek knew damn well that the reason his father had volunteered him was so he could have a couple days away from Kate.

The house was nice, although really not that different from his own. Kate insisted on living in the lap of luxury, and providing for her was one thing that Derek could manage to do. He walked both dogs around the neighborhood and then slouched on the sofa with a book.

At six, he ordered the food, and at six thirty, Stiles showed up with it. Derek insisted on eating in the kitchen, not on the sofa, because this wasn’t his house and if he got soy sauce on their cream-colored suede couch he would kill himself. Stiles laughed and agreed. They stuffed themselves silly, after which neither of them really wanted to go swimming, so they decided to watch the first movie and then go swimming afterwards, even though it would be late.

“I used to love swimming at night, actually,” Stiles said, as they settled on the sofa. “One of my friends had a pool, and swimming at night was somehow incredibly mysterious and forbidden.”

Derek let out a snort and started the movie. Both dogs immediately joined them on the sofa, and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. “You were so worried about keeping the sofa pristine, but these dogs are clearly used to being up here.”

“That or they’re taking shameless advantage,” Derek agreed, scratching one behind the ears.

By the time the movie was over, one of the dogs had sprawled across their laps and was asleep. As the credits ran, Stiles said, “So obviously we can’t move now.”

“Obviously,” Derek said, huffing out a laugh.

“Which honestly is fine with me,” Stiles said, with a yawn. “This is the best place on earth. Here. On this sofa. With these dogs. With you.”

Derek’s gaze darted over to him, and he saw Stiles’ cheeks flush pink as he realized what he had said. He wouldn’t quite meet Derek’s eyes, although he didn’t entirely look away, either. Derek reached out, unthinking, cradling Stiles’ face with one of his hands, letting his thumb rub over Stiles’ cheekbone, then his lips. He was intensely, painfully aware that he was about to do something that was both horrible and wonderful. Now Stiles _was_ looking at him, staring at him with desire written all over his face, and Derek couldn’t look away.

Stiles leaned in first, and at the last second Derek managed to pull away, turning his head to one side so Stiles’ nose bumped into his cheek. “Uh – ” Stiles blurted out, and then Derek got off the sofa, gaining a reproachful look from the dog as she was spilled onto the floor. “Um, okay, I misread that, my bad, it was – ”

“You didn’t, it’s just that – ” Derek took a deep breath. “God, I’m sorry, this was so stupid. I never should have let this go this far.”

“Okay, but I wanted it to go this far,” Stiles said. “I want it to go further.”

“I know, but I can’t.” Derek knotted his hands in the bottom of his shirt. “Stiles, I’m sorry, but I can’t. You aren’t my soulmate and you never will be and that means we can’t have the sort of relationship you want to have.” He took a deep breath, seeing the misery all over Stiles’ face, and continued, “Look, I’m really sorry, but I think – we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

The words were clearly like a kick to Stiles’ gut, but he didn’t argue. From the look on his face, Derek wondered if Stiles had thought it was only a matter of time before this happened. “I’m sorry,” he said raggedly. “We could’ve been friends but I fucking ruined it. I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that,” Derek said. “God, Stiles, I like you, I do. I like you so much, and sooner or later I’m going to let this go too far and do something awful and I just – I have to stop this before I do that.”

Stiles nodded, getting off the sofa, focusing on petting one of the dogs for a few moments while he collected himself. “Yeah. Okay. I just . . .” His voice trailed off and then he just said, “Fuck it. Bye forever I guess.”

Derek fought against the impulse to tell Stiles that it wouldn’t be forever, because it would be, it _had_ to be. He folded his arms over his stomach and swallowed the lump in his stomach. “Bye forever I guess,” he murmured back, as Stiles grabbed his shoes and left without stopping to put them on.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Peter opened the door to find Stiles standing there, looking miserable and listing slightly to one side. “Look who the cat dragged in,” he said, standing back to let Stiles into the apartment.

“It didn’t work, you piece of shit,” Stiles slurred out.

“How many drinks have you had?” Peter asked.

“Why’s it your business?”

“Because I’m deciding whether or not I’m going to have to stay up all night to make sure you don’t die of alcohol poisoning.” Peter gave him a measuring look and added, “And also assessing whether or not you’d be capable of giving consent, if things took a turn of that nature.”

“Fuck you,” Stiles said.

“Yes, that’s precisely the turn I’m talking about. Props on keeping up. Drinks?”

“Four. I’m only a li’l drunk. And you’d be drunk too if you were me.” Stiles flopped onto the sofa and folded his arms over his chest, sulking. Peter rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen to get himself a mug of tea and Stiles a glass of water. He put it in Stiles’ hands, and Stiles gave an annoyed huff but started drinking anyway. “Derek’s jealous but instead of jumping my bones he pushed me away and it’s all your fault and I hate you.”

“He did what now?” Peter asked, frowning.

Stiles did his best to wipe his eyes without Peter noticing. “We almost kissed tonight. Then he told me we couldn’t see each other anymore, because he liked me too much and was tempted to do things he shouldn’t with me.”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. His nephew was an _idiot_. “I see.”

“So now I don’t even get to be friends with him anymore, which is just, you know, awesome, which is why I’m now five shots deep and showed up on your doorstep.”

“You said four,” Peter pointed out, amused despite himself.

“Yeah, and I’m probably still lying,” Stiles said. His face screwed up in an effort not to cry. “I hate being so lonely. I don’t want to be better than everyone. I want to have someone, the way everybody else does.”

“Do you, though?” Peter asked. “Because I don’t think that’s your problem right now. Do you just want ‘someone’? Or do you want a very specific someone?”

“Hey, asshole, don’t tell me how I feel,” Stiles said. “I just want to have someone.”

“Mm hm.” Peter leaned in and kissed him. Stiles made a muffled noise against his mouth, but then let it happen, let Peter coax his lips open and kiss him with a passion that was as thorough as it was impressive.

When Peter pulled away, Stiles panted for breath for a moment before slouching backwards and admitting, “Okay. You’re right. I don’t just want ‘someone’.”

Peter nodded. “Look. Derek is an idiot, so we’ll have to do some work on him, obviously, but – ”

“No,” Stiles said, and lurched to his feet. “No, I won’t do that. He wants to be happy with his soulmate and he deserves that. I don’t want to mess things up for them.” He shook his head and mumbled, “Was a mistake to come here. I’m just gonna go home.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Peter said, getting him by the shoulders, “but we don’t have to talk about Derek anymore, at least not until you’re sober. Sit down and drink your water and we can watch fail videos on YouTube until you either cheer up or pass out.”

“Mmkay,” Stiles said, letting Peter push him back down onto the sofa. Peter grabbed the remote for the television and the Xbox and sat down next to him. “It’s not fair, though,” he muttered.

“I know,” Peter said.

“Do you?” Stiles asked. “Do you really?”

Peter paused with his finger on the power button. “I met someone once. Someone . . . amazing. I would have given anything to be with him, but he . . . wouldn’t give anything to be with me. So that was that.”

“’m sorry,” Stiles said.

“Me too,” Peter said. He shook his head and turned the television on. “That’s enough of that for one night. We can talk more about this tomorrow.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Derek hesitated for a few moments before he squared his shoulders and knocked on Peter’s door. There was a bit of shuffling inside, and then the door swung open and he found himself facing Stiles. He was sleep-mussed, his hair flat, and wearing one of Peter’s T-shirts. Derek felt his face flood with color as they blinked at each other. “Oh, uh, I didn’t – didn’t realize you’d be here.”

“Yeah, I, I came by last night – we didn’t, I mean, it’s not like we – ”

Derek could easily see what had happened, and it made perfect sense. Of course Stiles would go to Peter, the only person around who could even remotely sympathize with what had just happened. He forced himself to smile and say, “It’s fine, Stiles. What you and my uncle do is none of my – ”

“No, nope, absolutely not,” Stiles said. “We are not having any stupid rom-com miscommunications here. Peter and I did not have sex.”

“It’s fine if you – ”

“Yes, it would have been fine if we did, and it also would have been none of your business if we did; you are right on both those points. But I still want you to know that we didn’t. Now or any of the times you’ve obviously thought we have, for that matter.” Stiles pushed a hand back through his hair. “I was dead drunk by the time I got here anyway. He was totally a gentleman. I answered the door just now because he said he was running to the shop on the corner for breakfast and I thought he had just forgotten his keys. Anyway, come on in, he should be back any minute.”

“Okay.” Derek hovered just inside, feeling awkward. Stiles didn’t say anything else, instead sitting down and starting to lace his shoes. “You don’t have to go.”

“Well, I’m sure as hell not staying,” Stiles said, not looking up. “I assume you came over to talk to your uncle so I’ll just let you get to it.”

“I didn’t mean to – ”

“Don’t,” Stiles snapped, and then rubbed a hand over his face. “Just don’t, okay? This is already hard enough. Tell Peter I said thanks for the sofa and I’ll text him when I get home.”

“Okay,” Derek said, not wanting to keep arguing, which would only make them both feel worse. He was still staring down at his feet when the door opened and then closed again. He let out a gusty sigh and slumped into one of the chairs at Peter’s kitchen table.

A few minutes passed, and then he heard the jingle of keys and Peter came in with a tray with two coffee cups and a paper bag. He arched his eyebrows at Derek and said, “Well, you’re not who I left here.”

“Yeah. Stiles let me in and then took off. He said to tell you thanks and he’ll text you later.”

“Mm hm. Americano, then?”

“Sure.” Derek accepted the cup from Peter and turned it around in his hands. “Am I an idiot?”

“Well, I’m so glad you asked,” Peter said. “It was actually number one on my to-do list today to call and tell you exactly that. I’m glad to hear you’re in a receptive frame of mind. Yes, you are absolutely an idiot.”

Derek sighed. “You make it sound like the answer is simple.”

“You love Stiles. He loves you. What could be simpler than that?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” Derek said waspishly. “Maybe if one of the two parties wasn’t already married to the woman magic had determined was their perfect match?”

“Kate isn’t your perfect match and you damned well know it,” Peter said. “Kate isn’t anyone’s perfect match except possibly Satan’s. How did the system get it wrong? I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t see how it matters. Who gives a shit what the system has to say?”

“Literally everyone,” Derek snapped.

“Everyone? Really? You think Stiles gives a shit? Or your family? Do you think your parents are happy seeing you so miserable?”

“Okay, no,” Derek admitted. “But it’s still – it’s just – society. People. _Everyone_.”

“And why do you give a shit what _they_ have to say?” Peter asked. “So people will think you’re wrong, or crazy. Who cares? Why is it their business?”

Derek stopped, blinking. “Well, okay, it isn’t, but I can’t just – just go against the entire world.”

“Sure you can. You can do exactly that. You could go home, tell Kate that she’s the worst and you never want to see her again. Hell, you don’t even have to divorce her. If you leave her your Platinum card, she probably won’t even care. Then you could pick Stiles up, tell him you love him, take him to a tropical island and make love to him for a week straight.”

Derek flushed dark pink. “C’mon, Uncle Peter, I don’t need to hear that from you.”

“Then you could come back, stop throwing yourself against the brick wall of academia in an effort to understand something that will never make sense, get a job at your sister’s shop or your father’s company or maybe somewhere else on your own, and continue to make love to the beautiful man you’re in love with every night for the rest of your life. And yes, occasionally you’ll meet people who will call you nasty names, or not want you near their children, or discriminate against you in some other way. But wouldn’t that be a fair trade?”

To get to have Stiles, Derek thought, it totally would. What Peter was saying made sense, even though there was still a voice that kept telling him that otherwise. “I just feel like I should be able to make it work with Kate.”

“Look,” Peter said, “leaving aside whether or not she’s ever done anything to deserve that sort of effort from you, you’ve tried. You’ve done your best. There’s a point at which you have to stop wasting your life on someone who doesn’t appreciate you.”

Derek thought about that, studying his coffee. Finally, he said, “It feels so selfish.”

“When has Kate ever been anything _but_ selfish?” Peter countered. “When has she ever given one iota of thought as to what you want, what would make you happy?”

“So I should be as selfish as her?”

Peter shrugged. “Here’s the thing, Derek. There’s a difference between being selfish and taking care of yourself. The first is putting your wants above the needs of others. The second is putting your _needs_ ahead of the _wants_ of others.”

“I don’t _need_ to make love to Stiles for a week on a tropical island.”

“No, admittedly not,” Peter said, “but you do need to be treated with respect and kindness if you’re going to be happy. And frankly, it seems almost certain that Kate doesn’t need you. I hate to be the one to break that to you, but the only thing Kate needs to be happy is money, and I’m pretty sure she can get that somewhere else.”

“Maybe.” Derek folded his arms across his stomach. “Yeah, maybe.”

Seeing that he was getting through, Peter said, “Just think about it, all right? And in the meantime, know this: I one hundred percent made a move on Stiles, and he rejected me. Because he doesn’t want to just not be alone. He wants to be with you. And if someone is going to turn down my beautiful face, they must want someone else pretty damned badly.”

At this, Derek laughed. “Thanks for, uh, for letting me know that.”

“Keep it in mind.”

Derek nodded and said goodbye, heading for home. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Peter had said, about the idea that he and Stiles might actually be able to be together. But he also couldn’t help but feel like his desire to be with Stiles was far more of a want than a need. How could he tell the difference?

He was still brooding over it when he got home, and Kate burst out of the kitchen. “Hey, babe, I’ve got some crazy news!” she said, and gave him a broad grin. “I’m pregnant!”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mm, angst ...

Stiles stared at the computer for several long minutes, arguing with himself, before he finally sighed and started typing. The layout of the site was simple and made designing his profile a breeze. He looked through his selfies before choosing one that he hoped was at least vaguely attractive and uploading it.

“Hey, what are you up to in here?” Noah asked, poking his head into the bedroom.

Stiles resisted the urge to say that he was giving up on life and his future. He reminded himself for the tenth time since opening the website that this was a step in a positive direction, no matter how much it felt like he was giving up. “I, uh, I’m making myself a profile on that website you gave me. Mateless souls. Makes me sound like a shoe.”

Noah chuckled despite himself, then came in and sat down on the edge of Stiles’ bed. “What changed your mind?”

For a long moment, Stiles studied the website, putting in the information it asked for, trying to be clever about his likes and dislikes and preferences. “So, uh, last night Derek told me that we couldn’t see each other anymore, because the fact that I was clearly in love with him was putting a real damper on the friendship.”

“Ah.” Noah grimaced a little and that says, “That sucks.”

“Yeah. It really, truly does.” Stiles finished the profile and hit ‘submit’. “No ‘I told you so’?”

“Would that help?”

“Not really, but still, you usually say it even though you know that.”

Noah sighed. “Okay. I’ve been a little hard on you on the whole soulmate thing, but that was honestly only because I want to see you happy. You seemed so determined not to be, and yeah, it was frustrating to watch you plow headlong into decisions that seemed destined to make you miserable. So I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been a jerk about the whole thing.”

Stiles shrugged. “You were. But you were also right, so, you know. Guess we’ll just let that go, huh? And hey, look, there are fourteen mateless souls in my area! Tell me one of them isn’t you.”

Noah laughed despite himself. “No. Online dating has never really been my scene. And to be honest, I decided years ago that I was done trying to find someone to replace your mother.”

“You - ” Stiles took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, praying for the patience not to throttle his father. “You realize that that’s _exactly_ why I’ve been so resistant to this idea, right? Because of you saying shit like that. Here I am, doing it anyway, and you - ”

“Sorry, sorry.” Noah lifted his hands in surrender. “That was a poor choice of words. I, personally, decided that I’d rather be single than date. But that was just my decision. There are plenty of people who don’t feel the same way, who want to find someone to have a relationship with even though their soulmate is gone. People wouldn’t be on that website if that wasn’t how they felt, so give them a chance.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Stiles still felt uncharitable about the whole thing. He scrolled through the profiles of the people that the website had matched him with. Sixty-eight. Seventy-one. Eighty-four. Sixty-three. “Ugh, she looks like she could be my grandmother,” Stiles muttered.

Noah leaned over his shoulder. “There, that’s somebody in their forties.”

“Super! Only twice my age.” Stiles struggled with his temper for a long minute, looking through the man’s profile. He was physically fit and handsome, and hell, the sprinkling of gray in his beard was actually pretty attractive. He read through the rest of the profile and groaned. “Come on. Seriously? One guy on here under the age of fifty and he specifically put in his profile that he’s a member of the Log Cabin Republicans? Jesus, I can’t do this.”

Noah reached over and grabbed his wrist before he could slap the laptop shut. “Okay, so he’s a no. But there are still thirteen other people here.”

“Is this really what you want for me, Dad?” Stiles asked. “You really want me to date somebody who’s going to die in ten or fifteen years? And then be alone again?”

“I was only with your mother for eighteen years,” Noah pointed out. “It was worth it.”

Stiles sighed. “Okay, okay. I know you’re not wrong, but it still feels like I’m just setting myself up for more misery, as you put it.” He clicked on the profile of a fifty-eight year old woman who loved dogs and gaming, made her living running a small bakery, and had lost her soulmate to cancer four years previous. He sighed and clicked ‘send message’. “Okay, Dad, you’re probably better with woman this age than me - don’t make that face, I’m just being realistic! What’s a good opening line?”

“Something that doesn’t sound like a line,” Noah told him.

That made sense to Stiles, so he wrote, ‘Hi there! I see in your profile that you like gaming. Video or tabletop? I can be an enormous nerd about either.’

He stared at it for a long minute, waiting for a reply. When none came, he said, “Okay, can I close the laptop now? If she replies, I’ll get it on my phone. And I really don’t feel like looking at any more profiles right now.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty reasonable,” Noah said, and let Stiles shut the laptop. “Look, kiddo, I’m sorry about Derek, I really am. I know you really liked him and it can’t be easy to hear that you were making him uncomfortable.” He paused, then added, “I guess Peter is probably out as a dating option, huh. That would be pretty awkward.”

“Peter would one hundred percent still date me, to be honest, but yeah. No way am I gonna seriously date Derek’s uncle after what just happened.” Stiles stood up and said, “I’m going to go drown my misery in Cheese Puffs. You’re welcome to join me but I’m pretty sure you’d rather not.”

“It’s about time for me to be getting to bed,” Noah said. “But I am proud of you, Stiles. Hopefully you’ll get a positive response from this woman you messaged and you can go out on a date with a non-Hale. I think it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah,” Stiles muttered, but really, he was pretty sure that it was only going to make him feel worse.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Peter didn’t think much of it when he got a text from Talia saying they were having a family dinner out at Rosita’s, their favorite Mexican restaurant. ‘Derek has some sort of announcement’, she added, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently Derek had decided not to be an idiot after all.

That was what he was thinking, until he got to the restaurant and saw that Kate was there, along with her father and a woman Peter vaguely recognized as her sister. He sidled over, hoping to get an earful of what was going on. He heard Kate say, “Chris isn’t here yet, though,” to which her father replied that he was going to be late and she should just get started.

A minute later, she had everyone’s attention and dramatically announced that she was pregnant, and it took all of Peter’s formidable self-control not to blurt out, “The _hell_ you are.” He darted a gaze over at Derek and saw that his nephew was forcing a smile, but the stiffness in his back and shoulders implied that he would rather be anywhere else.

Talia quickly congratulated the couple, which prompted the other Hales to do the same thing. Peter wondered if there was any chance he would be able to get Derek alone, but he forgot all about it a few minutes later when another couple walked in, along with a young woman who looked about Stiles’ age.

“Hey, Chris!” Kate yelled over to him. Peter recognized the name. He had heard Derek mention Kate’s brother Chris, although they had never met. Or at least, he thought they had never met. It turned out he was quite wrong about that.

Chris spotted him in the crowd and their eyes locked, and they both froze for a few moments. Then Chris turned and headed over to his family. Peter still didn’t move, feeling a few pieces slide into place in a puzzle he hadn’t even known was there.

“You okay?” Talia said, from where she’s been standing at Peter’s elbow. “You look like you just got kicked in the nuts.”

“That would’ve been less painful,” Peter muttered, then cleared his throat and said, “This entire tawdry affair makes me _feel_ like I’ve been kicked in the nuts. I was _this close_ to convincing Derek to leave her sorry ass and now it’ll never happen.”

Talia sighed. “I need a drink.”

“Excellent thinking,” Peter said, and headed over for the restaurant’s bar. He got them both a margarita. By the time he was back, she was talking to Derek and Kate, so he handed her both drinks and then made for the exit. He needed to get out of the restaurant, find some place quiet where he could think, before –

“Hey.” Chris emerged from the crowd, blocking his path. “Can we talk?”

“Signs point to no,” Peter said, wishing he had kept the margarita.

Chris looked away, seeming uneasy. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Well, you’re ahead of me. I didn’t even know your last name. You at least had a chance of guessing I might be at my nephew’s family announcement; I didn’t have any way of knowing you’d be showing up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get five hundred miles away from this travesty.”

Chris’ jaw tightened. “You’re pissed; I get it. But this isn’t about us. It’s about Derek and Kate. Her being pregnant – ”

“Your sister isn’t fucking pregnant, and if you’ve spent more than an hour with her in your entire life, you know that as well as I do,” Peter said. “And if you’re that concerned about her baby, maybe you should go take away the margarita she’s laying into.”

That made Chris turn, his brow furrowing. Peter saw his chance and took it, eeling through the crowd and out of the restaurant. Fortunately, nobody followed him. He got behind the wheel of his Cobra and drove for a little while, hoping to clear his muddled thoughts. But he only wound up coming up with questions he couldn’t answer, which made him more frustrated. He headed back to his apartment.

He had been on his computer for about half an hour when there was a quiet knock. “Who is it?” he asked, wondering if Chris had bribed his address out of somebody.

“It’s me,” Talia said, so Peter swung the door open. “I texted you, but you didn’t reply.”

“Ah,” Peter said, standing back to let her in. “I had music on. Didn’t hear it.”

“Are you okay?” Talia asked. “Nobody saw you leave. I was worried.”

Peter didn’t answer her question, instead going into the kitchen and heading for his espresso machine. “Did you know,” he said, busying himself with the device, “that every single member of the Argent family has a soulmate whose family has a net worth of seven figures or more?”

Talia blinked. “No, I didn’t know that. It never would have occurred to me to look.”

“It didn’t occur to me either, until tonight when I met Kate’s brother Chris. I recognized his wife. I don’t remember her name, but her father is a very famous corporate lawyer in San Francisco. She works for his firm. Old money, very well-established.”

“Huh.” Talia accepted the mug of coffee that Peter handed to her. “Every member?”

“Mm hm. Kate and Chris have an older sister – her soulmate is the son of a hotel magnate. She has two children, both of whom have already met their soulmates – one of them is a tech millionaire, and the other is the daughter of the owner of a filthy rich military contracting company.”

Talia was quiet for a moment, sipping the drink, before she says, “So what does that mean?”

“You don’t see? God, it’s so simple, so obvious – ” Peter squelched his impatience. “All this time, all that research, and Derek has been asking the wrong question. It’s not whether the system is foolproof that’s important. It’s whether the system is _tamper_ proof. The Argents have found a way to hack into it, somehow, to game the system for wealthy, prestigious partners. They always go for family money – which makes sense, because they have to make their choice when the soulmate in question is relatively young.”

“How would they even do that?” Talia asked.

“I’ve no idea. But I think it makes sense.”

Talia thought about this for what seemed like a long time before moving into the living room and sitting down on the sofa. “Okay,” she said, “but there’s something you’re not telling me. You’re upset about Kate and Derek and I get that, but you didn’t leave the party in such a rush because you saw Chris with a rich woman and immediately figured all this out.”

“No.” Peter felt a sour taste in his mouth but sat down next to her. “As it happens, I’ve met Chris before. I just didn’t know he was Kate’s brother.”

“When?” Talia asked, frowning.

“About four years ago. Remember when I went up to that lodge at Lake Tahoe for a weekend trip, but they got six feet of snow and I wound up stuck there for a week? He was at the lodge at the same time.”

“Okay,” Talia said, clearly waiting for more.

“I met him at the bar that first night I was there. And spent pretty much the entirety of the next six days with him. He was . . .” Peter stopped, searching for words that would get across what he meant without embarrassing himself. “He was the first person I had ever met that made me understand why I might _want_ to have a relationship with someone.”

Talia, bless her insightful heart, figured it out immediately. “You think he’s your soulmate.”

Peter nodded. “I do. I think he’s mine, but his family stole him from me and gave him to some rich bitch instead. And I think Stiles is Derek’s.”

“So what happened?” Talia asked. “At the end of the week at the lodge?”

“Well, since you ask . . .” Peter slumped backwards against the cushions. “To be clear, Chris had told me at the beginning of the week that he had a soulmate, but their relationship was purely platonic and that she was in fact asexual. Which could be true, for all I know. My point is, I wasn’t trying to be a homewrecker. I figured we would just fool around for a couple nights. But then it turned into more than a couple nights. And when the roads were finally clear and we were getting ready to leave, I asked when I would see him again. Long story short, he told me that I wouldn’t.”

“Jesus.” Talia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I _knew_ something had happened that week. You were so upset when you came back, even though you wouldn’t admit it or tell me what was wrong.”

“I remember,” Peter said, amused despite himself. “You kept pushing me for answers and got very annoyed when I wouldn’t give them to you.” He shook his head and continued, more quietly, “I didn’t tell you because I felt like an idiot. He’d made it clear to me at the beginning that he already had a soulmate. I should have known it wasn’t going to be anything. But he was . . . I felt _comfortable_ around him. It wasn’t some sort of insatiable pull. It was just this feeling of quiet contentment. Like for so long, there had been something wrong, and now everything was just . . . right.”

Talia reached out and squeezed his hand. Instead of pushing for more details on their short-lived romance, she said, “Do you think he knows?”

“I honestly have no idea. And right now I’m not sure I care. He made his priorities very clear to me. I’m far more invested in proving that Kate isn’t Derek’s real soulmate than I am in figuring out what Chris does and doesn’t know.”

He wasn’t sure he was fooling Talia, but if he wasn’t, she was kind enough not to say so. “Okay. I’ll talk to Alan – see if he can think of what sort of magic might be needed to disrupt the soulmate bonds. Let’s not say anything to Derek for now, okay? I don’t want to before we’re sure.”

“Seems like sound judgment to me,” Peter said. He lifted his mug of coffee and clinked it against Talia’s. “I’ll make a few calls, too. Between the two of us, I’m sure we can figure it out.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Derek had been tossing and turning for an hour when he finally gave up and got out of bed. Kate was sound asleep. Despite her many flaws, she never bitched about Derek being a restless sleeper. As far as Derek could tell, she could sleep through a tornado.

It had been three days since she had told him she was pregnant, and he thought he had finally worked through enough of the shock to have an emotional reaction. The problem was, he was having _all_ the emotional reactions. There was a part of him that was happy, ecstatic even. He was from a huge family. He had always wanted kids. But Kate hadn’t. She had told him that not long after they had formally met when he was nineteen. She wasn’t the maternal sort, she said, and dreaded the idea of what pregnancy would do to her body.

He had been disappointed, and it was just one more way the pair of them didn’t make sense, but he had accepted that about her. It wasn’t his choice to make.

When she had told him she was pregnant, he had even said something, a stunned, “I thought you didn’t want kids,” to which she had replied that she wouldn’t have done it on _purpose_ but now that there was an actual baby inside her, she was warming up to the idea.

Not that that explained how it could have happened, logistically. Kate was so anti-motherhood that they had doubled up on birth control ever since they met. She was on the pill and he always wore condoms. He knew that neither method was foolproof, but the idea of both of them failing, just at the moment he was seriously thinking about leaving her –

He wrenched his mind off that line of thought. The idea that Kate would lie to him about this, when she knew how badly he wanted children, made him feel nauseous. Talia had even dropped a semi-tactful inquiry as to whether or not he was sure of the child’s paternity. It was possible – they did still have sex, although nowhere near as frequently as they once had – just not probable. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the idea that Kate might be pregnant with someone else’s baby or the idea that she was lying about the whole thing. But he couldn’t deal with that, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

If he was going to be a father, there were some changes he would need to make. He had to stop going to the library, anyway, since Stiles’ shifts weren’t regular enough for Derek to be sure he could avoid him. There was no point to working on his thesis anymore. If he hadn’t found an answer in three years, there was no answer to find. He couldn’t just live off the family money forever, no matter how much his parents wouldn’t complain.

With that thought in mind, he got in the car and drove over to his parents’ house. It was nearly midnight, but his mother had always been a night owl; she would still be up. And he would rather do this when she was the only one there. Everyone else in his family was still trying to hide their shock and disbelief at Kate’s announcement.

He found her in the kitchen, wearing a terry-cloth robe over her pajamas, drinking tea and doing the crossword puzzle. “Hey, you!” she said, getting to her feet to give him an embrace. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. I guess so.”

“Not very reassuring. Want some tea?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Talia got up and went over to the counter, where there was a teapot with a little curl of steam still coming from the spout. She poured him a mug and brought it over to the table, shepherding him into a chair. “What’s on your mind?”

“I wanted to talk to you about . . . school, I guess,” Derek said. “I think I’m going to drop out of grad school.”

Talia looked at him over the rim of her mug and didn’t offer judgment, instead saying, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. To be honest, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I’ve been working on this stupid thesis for three years and I still don’t even know what my thesis _is_. I’m kind of sick of beating my head against a wall. And if I’m going to be a father, I think it’s time I started supporting myself, instead of letting you and Dad support me. Not that I’m not grateful, but . . .”

“I understand.” Talia reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “What kind of job were you thinking? Your mechanic skills are probably a bit rusty by now, but I’m sure we could find a place for you at one of the shops if that’s what you wanted. I don’t think you have the sort of education and experience you’d need to work at one of Justin’s restaurants and to be honest I can’t picture you as a waiter . . .”

Derek had to laugh just at the idea. “I was thinking something with animals, maybe, if Dad could help me find something.”

“Sure,” Talia said. “Rescue Ink is ninety-nine percent volunteers, but your father knows every dog trainer, pet groomer, boarding facility, and veterinarian in the city. I’ll have him make a few calls, see who’s hiring.”

“Thanks.” Derek took a drink of his tea, thinking about that. It would be nice to work with dogs, since he couldn’t have any at home.

Unbidden, the thought of Stiles on the sofa with the two German Shepherds rose to mind. Stiles, cuddling with animals, loving them just as much as he did. Stiles, who had mentioned how much he loved playing with Scott and Kira’s babies and how much he might like to have his own someday. He and Stiles in a cozy little house, not this modern monstrosity Kate had selected, with three kids and two dogs and –

“Derek?” Talia said, squeezing his hand again. “You okay?”

Derek had to swallow several times before he could speak. “I don’t love her, Mom. I don’t know why I don’t, but I can’t. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard.”

“I know, baby.” Talia drew him into an embrace, letting him press his face into her shoulder. “I know.”

Derek clutched at her for a moment as she rocked him back and forth like a child. Gradually, some equilibrium started to return to him. He pulled away and wiped his eyes. “What should I do?”

“Right now? Nothing.” Talia squeezed his hand again. “You’ve had a hell of a week. I’ll talk to your dad about the job. But maybe just take it easy for a few days. Don’t try to feel any particular way about Kate, about the baby. Just let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling.”

Derek took a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah, that sounds doable, I guess. Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome. Now go get some sleep. It’s late.”

Derek nodded, and hugged her one more time before he headed home.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	7. Chapter 7

Peter was wasting time on Netflix when his phone chimed and he saw a text from one of the dealers he regularly did business with. ‘Had a customer call about acquiring an Aston Martin. Set up an appointment for two thirty so you can sit down with him about what exactly he wants. Let me know if you have a conflict.’

Although work wasn’t really something that Peter was jumping at the chance to do, at least it would keep him occupied for a little while. He texted back a confirmation, did some quick research to find some available choices, and then went to grab himself some lunch. At two fifteen he was at the dealership. He greeted the manager and went to the office he used.

He was surprised, and admittedly a little discomfited, when Chris Argent walked in, to the point where he did an actual double take. Still, he recovered well, saying, “I have a meeting – ”

“I know. With me. We need to talk.”

“So you called one of the places I do business and arranged an appointment under false pretenses?” Peter asked, arching an eyebrow.

Chris didn’t flinch. “It was that or see which of your relatives I could trick into giving me your home address. I figured this was preferable.”

Peter stared him down for a long moment. “So, Satomi told me that you were in the market for an Aston Martin. Had you thought about which model? I’m a personal fan of the – ”

“I know how he’s doing it,” Chris interrupted.

“Virage, but if you’re looking for – ”

“Peter, for God’s sake,” Chris snapped, grabbed Peter by the front of his shirt, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Peter was stunned into silence, which was a great disappointment to himself because he was sure there were a hundred pithy things he should be saying. Instead, as Chris pulled away, he just stood there with his jaw ajar like a dumbass.

“I know how my father is stealing soulmates for his family,” Chris said again, since Peter had stopped talking about cars, “and I want you to help me stop him.”

“Why?” Peter asked, regaining his wits slightly. “Or should I say, why now? You’ve known for years. You came and found me at that lodge because you knew I was your real soulmate. Are you denying that?”

“No.” Chris looked away. “It’s something he learned from his father. But he didn’t tell me until Allison was seventeen and he wanted to run by the choices for her potential soulmates with me. Make sure he wasn’t picking someone she would strongly object to for some reason. I had always felt like there was something a little off between Victoria and me, but – ”

“Get to the point,” Peter said.

Chris’ jaw tightened. “I figured out you were my real soulmate and I came to find you, expecting to find out it was just bullshit. I had looked you up and seen that we barely had anything in common, and I figured we wouldn’t connect at all. But we did.”

“Yes, Chris, I was there. I remember what happened. Now answer my question: why now?”

After a moment to wrestle with his temper, Chris took a deep breath and let it out. “Allison’s ‘soulmate’ – the one my father picked – turns nineteen in a couple weeks. He’ll have his ceremony and at that point there won’t be going any back. And I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her trapped in a loveless marriage or, God forbid, an abusive one like your nephew. I want her to find the sort of love that people are supposed to have.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Fine. But I don’t see why you need me for that.”

“I said I know how my father is doing it. Not that I know how to stop it.” Chris folded his arms over his stomach. “He chooses the soulmate well in advance, and we’re always older – that way he guarantees the other person won’t have had their ceremony yet. Once he does the spell on our end, that changes it on their end.”

“And the effect ripples down, apparently,” Peter said, “since I don’t have your name on my wrist.”

“Yeah. But I don’t know how to reverse it once it’s done. I don’t know what magic exactly he uses to do it.”

“How did you find me?”

“Through Derek, sort of. Kate was laughing about it at a family dinner, because I guess my dad was pissed about it. Derek had told her all about his family, including his uncle who didn’t have a soulmate. Kate immediately guessed that was because you were supposed to be one of ours, and Dad was afraid something would accidentally give us away, that you or Derek would make the connection.”

Peter frowned, rolling this over in his head. “So you don’t actually _know_ that you’re my soulmate.”

“I don’t have magical confirmation, if that’s what you mean. But you sure as hell aren’t Kate’s, and you’re too young or too old for anyone else. You’re already, what, five or six years younger than me? And my older sister is six years older than me.”

“Larger age gaps have worked, but it seems a logical enough assumption.”

“I’d say that what happened at lodge proves it, anyway.”

“Would you?” Peter raised his eyebrows. “You would say that having sex with me for six days and then telling me we’d never see each other again proves that I’m your soulmate? I’d love to see how you would have treated me if you _did_ have magical confirmation.”

Chris took another deep breath, and Peter had to admit he was enjoying needling him. “It was more than six days of sex and you know it.”

“Excuse the hell out of me, Chris, but the only thing I _know_ about our time together is that it ended with me miserable. So regardless of what you know or think about our soulmate status, I don’t see how what’s going to happen to your daughter is any of my God damned problem.”

“It’s not,” Chris said. “But what happens to Derek is.”

“I can take care of my nephew, and I very much do not need you in my life to do so.”

“God _damn_ it, Peter – ” Chris finally lost his temper. “I am trying to extend an olive branch and you keep spitting in my face. I don’t know why in the hell you’re so pissed off when I’m trying to make things right between us!”

“Are you serious?” Peter rolled his eyes so hard that his whole head moved. “Okay. Let me tell you why. For starters, that’s not what you’re trying to do. Because if you were actually trying to do that, you would have tried an actual apology in here at some point. You know damned well that the way you ended things in Tahoe was cruel, but at no point have you bothered to say you were sorry. Secondly, the only reason you’re here is because you’re worried about your daughter. That’s admirable, but you have to realize it’s not going to win you any points with me. You never cared about being with me enough to try to stop your father. How the hell do you think that makes me feel?”

“You said – ” Chris’ voice is heavy with frustration. “You said you didn’t need a soulmate. That it had never bothered you that you didn’t have one.”

Peter stared at him. “And you _believed_ me? Okay, maybe you’re not my soulmate after all. I’m fairly sure my soulmate wouldn’t be an idiot.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why would I have not believed you? You said it multiple times over the course of the first evening we met. How you were glad you weren’t magically tied down. You were better than everyone else anyway. You’d never met anyone you would consider your equal.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘methinks the lady doth protest too much’?” Peter asked dryly. “And even if it _were_ true, you didn’t think that six days with you might have changed my opinion slightly?”

“Well, no, since you ask.”

Peter sighed and pushed both hands through his hair. “You know what? I’m done with this. I think the six days in Tahoe must have been a result of cabin fever. Or maybe an actual fever. You have no idea whether or not you’re actually my soulmate, and given everything that’s happened, it hardly matters now anyway. You want to help your daughter, go do it and leave me out of it. And don’t come crying to me in six weeks when your sister ‘mysteriously’ loses the baby she doesn’t actually have, and after I’m done consoling my nephew on the loss of his unborn child, I pull all Kate’s teeth out with pliers.”

“Just – ” Chris took a deep breath and picked up a notepad and a pen from the desk. He wrote down his phone number, folded the piece of paper, and held it out. “Just think about it, okay? Think about how this will be easier than trying to get away with murder, and call me.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Peter said, but he slid the piece of paper into his pocket, because he knew Chris wouldn’t leave if he just threw it in the trash can. After Chris was finally gone, he decided to keep it anyway. Anything might come in handy.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Friday night rolled around, the second Friday since Derek had broken things off with him, and Stiles was sitting on his bed, staring at his phone. He had been on exactly one date since then, the previous Saturday. It had been fine, in his opinion, and certainly no better than fine. She was very nice. Reminded him of his grandmother.

The feeling seemed to be mutual. She had texted the next day, saying, ‘It was fun to hang out, and you’re a great kid, but I can’t see myself romantically involved with someone your age. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed.

He had reassured her that he wasn’t, that he felt the same way, and thanked her for letting him down gently.

In the two weeks since he had posted his profile, nobody had messaged him. He had messaged five other people since his date with the grandmother. Two had replied with a polite ‘no thanks’, two hadn’t replied at all, and the last had replied, ‘I don’t think someone who was rejected by the system should even be on this app. This isn’t the place for freaks like you.’

He stared down at that message for a long time, anger and grief and bitter hatred warring for control. The lump in his throat was so firm that he felt like he couldn’t breathe, let alone swallow.

After a long moment, he managed to keep himself from bursting into tears. He scrolled through the contacts on his phone and pulled Peter up. ‘Hey, you free?’

It was several minutes before Peter replied, and then it was a disappointing, ‘Sorry, no. I’m in Phoenix this weekend to meet with a seller.’

Stiles typed ‘fuck you’, decided that was unfair, erased it and typed ‘k’, decided that was even worse, and decided against replying at all. There was nobody else he could call. Scott would try to be supportive, but the idea of going over to Scott’s happy household, with his two kids and his three dogs, made him want to jump off a building. His father was at work, and he sure as hell couldn’t call Derek.

“Fuck this,” he said to himself, and pulled on his shoes. He grabbed his keys and headed down to O’Malley’s. Maybe he could meet some cute guy or girl with time to waste before their soulmate turned nineteen. It was unlikely to make his evening _worse_.

That was what he thought until he entered the bar, got his first drink, and turned to see Peter Fucking Hale flirting with someone at the pool table. Their eyes locked, and Peter gave a little grimace. Stiles could barely breathe through the rage, and he slammed back his drink and then put the glass down on the bar. “Give me something expensive and put it on Peter’s tab.”

The bartender apparently knew Peter well enough that this request didn’t seem to surprise or trouble him. He poured Stiles a shot of whiskey. By the time Stiles had knocked that back, Peter had made his way over to the bar. “So I know you’re pissed, but let me – ”

“Nope,” Stiles said, accepting the third shot from the bartender. “Fuck this, fuck that, and fuck you.”

“I was just trying not to make things awkward.”

“Well, it was an abysmal failure. Keep ‘em coming, dude. Peter’s buying.”

The bartender didn’t argue, but instead of another shot, he gave Stiles a beer. Stiles made a face at him but accepted it.

“Stiles – ”

Stiles rounded on him and snapped, “Let me tell you what’s going to happen now, Peter. You’re going to go back to whatever twink you were playing pool with. I’m going to go hit on that guy messing around at the jukebox, and you are going to leave me the fuck alone. Clear?”

Peter lifted his hands in surrender and walked away. Stiles took another drink and then said to the bartender, “I don’t even like beer.”

“Then next time order something besides ‘an expensive drink’,” the bartender told him, and went to serve the next customer.

He did. After the guy at the jukebox turned him down, and the girl drinking a Cosmo turned him down, and the girl playing darts turned him down, he got himself a Long Island iced tea. If he couldn’t get laid, at least he could get wasted.

An hour later, he was puking his guts out in the men’s bathroom, and when he was done with that, he rested his face against the stall door. It was nice and cool. Felt good. He was only barely aware as someone helped him to his feet, and he mumbled into the fabric of someone’s shoulder.

“You want me to call him a taxi?” the bartender was asking someone.

“No, I’ll take him home,” Peter said, and of fucking _course_ Peter had found him half-passed out in the bathroom. His humiliation was complete.

“No offense, dude, but . . .” the bartender sounded dubious.

Peter sighed. “How about we start with getting him a glass of water.”

Another minute later, Stiles was sipping the water and trying not to cry. He looked over at the bartender and slurred out, “Thanks for lookin’ out. But Peter’s like me. A freak without a soulmate. He c’n take me home. S’okay. He won’ do the bad thing. He’s a . . . a gennelman. I turned him down before. He was very cool about it.”

“If you’re sure, man,” the bartender said, and went to serve another customer.

“Come on, drink your water. Then I’ll take you . . . how much did you drink?”

Stiles thought back in his muddled mind. His first drink. The two shots of whiskey. The beer. The iced tea. The second iced tea. “How m’ny shots are in a Long Island?”

“More than you should have had after drinking all that whiskey,” Peter said, shaking his head. “I’m going to take you back to my place so I can make sure you don’t pass out and choke on your own puke. Object now or forever hold your peace.”

“Mmkay.” Stiles rested his face against Peter’s shoulder. “You smell nice.”

“You smell terrible.” Peter guided him out of the bar and into the front seat of the Cobra, even putting his seat belt on for him. “If you throw up on the interior of this car, I will bury you in a shallow grave.”

“Well, as long as it’s shallow,” Stiles said.

Peter put a bottle of water in his hands and said, “Drink that.” Then he got behind the wheel. He rolled the windows down and started driving. The cool night air against Stiles’ face started to revive him a little. He carefully sipped the water. “I really am sorry about lying to you. It was a shit thing to do.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “You’re a shit.”

“Yes, I am. But I’m not a freak. And neither are you.”

Stiles snuffled and said nothing. They drove in silence for a few long minutes. Stiles drank his water and tried not to cry as Peter cruised the back roads. Finally, he said, “You never told me about the guy you met.”

“True. Derek came over before I had a chance to tell you that story.” Peter glanced over at him. “We met at Lake Tahoe. I was on a ski trip. He was at a business convention. It was funny, because we didn’t actually have very much in common on the surface. But then it turned out that maybe we did. We both hid our insecurities by being outspoken and confident. We both came from large families and struggled with our parents’ favoritism. I of course didn’t have a soulmate, and his was platonic, asexual, and he said that although they were happy together, he always felt like something was missing. He craved a romantic, sexual partner.

“We talked for hours that first night we met at the bar. Had sex all night. Meanwhile outside, it snowed like crazy. The entire lodge got snowed in. Our weekend trips turned into a week, and we spent the whole time together. You’d think it would be boring, but it wasn’t. The lodge had a pool, a game room, even a rock-climbing wall. We watched TV and we talked and I finally realized what people _meant_ when they said they felt an instant connection to somebody.”

Stiles snuffled again, looking over at Peter with tears running down his cheeks. “But he didn’t want you?”

“No. And he made me feel like an idiot for thinking he would. That he had been clear that he had a soulmate, that whatever happened would stay at the lodge, that we would never see each other again.” Peter fell silent for a moment before saying, “I didn’t know it was possible to hate someone and love someone so much at the same time.”

Stiles wiped his eyes. “I guess I should be glad that at least Derek wasn’t a jerk.”

“Maybe.” Peter shrugged. “I did the same thing you did, at first. Tried to bury the hurt with other people. But it doesn’t work, Stiles. All it does is make you miss them more.”

“Yeah. Trust me, I’d noticed that already.”

Peter pulled over and reach out to thumb the tears off Stiles’ cheeks. “If I had some way to fix it for you, I would. But the best advice I can give you is just to let it hurt. Dive headfirst into it and scream your rage and your pain into the sky. Eventually it fades. The love, the hate, the pain . . . it all fades.”

“Mmkay.” Stiles sniffled again. “Don’t stop being my friend, okay? You’re the only person who understands. I know it’s weird because of Derek, but . . .”

“All right,” Peter said. He started driving again. Stiles gradually let the motion of the car soothe him into sleep.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Look at you, all dressed up,” Kate teased as Derek came into the house, grabbing him by the tie.

“I had a job interview,” Derek said.

Kate’s eyebrows went up. “You mean you were actually serious about giving up on your stupid thesis? Wow, babe, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d ever admit defeat.” She tugged him closer by the tie and gave him a generous kiss. “Where was it? How’d it go?”

“The dog day care and boarding facility on the north side of town,” Derek said. “I think it went okay. I mean, it was really just a formality, since Dad knows the owner, and it’s not exactly a strenuous position.”

At this, Kate frowned. “When you say ‘not strenuous’, do you mean ‘get paid minimum wage to play with dogs all day’?”

“No,” Derek said, more defensively than he meant to. “There’s more to it than that. I mean, yes, watching the dogs will be part of my responsibility, but it’s also a boarding facility, which means that the dogs will be fed and exercised under our watch, and if they need any medication, that needs to be administered. Plus making reservations and taking money – ”

“Uh huh.” It was clear that Kate wasn’t impressed. “So this isn’t a _real_ job, is what you’re saying.”

Derek resisted the urge to throw his hands into the air in frustration. “What do you define as a ‘real job’?”

“Jesus, Derek, you could work anywhere in the city! I mean, I know that sociology degree isn’t good for much but can’t it get you a job in something like HR or market research or something? Or why can’t you just get a job as a mechanic? That’s the kind of job a man actually does – ”

“Yeah, so is taking care of animals,” Derek said, struggling to keep his temper. “And I’m looking into the possibility of getting some training to work with people who need service animals, helping coordinate that sort of thing. There’s a company in San Francisco that does that, and my sociology degree actually _would_ be a good thing in that field, but it would involve more travel and I don’t want to do that right now with the baby on the way.”

“Oh, wow, I’m impressed that your next job plan is going to be matching whiny housewives with yappy monsters they can bring to the grocery store by saying they’re a ‘service animal’,” Kate said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “I’m so turned on right now.”

“Shockingly, your level of sexual attraction to me didn’t figure into my career plans,” Derek retorted.

“Maybe it should have,” Kate replied. “I mean, you as a mechanic, wearing a tank top, grease on your hands . . . that’s a real job! If you’re so concerned about the baby, why don’t you think about what kind of example you’re going to set for it?”

“You mean, you don’t want our child thinking that it’s good for men to like animals and help people?” Derek asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

“I mean, I want our child to think that real men take care of their families, and don’t just mooch off their parents’ money for all eternity!”

Derek opened his mouth to bite out a retort about how much Kate loved to spend his parents’ money, and at the last moment managed to stop himself. He knew how that argument would go, and he wasn’t interested in having it again. “Look . . . I’ll talk to Laura, okay? Maybe she has an opening at one of her shops.”

“She can damned well _make_ an opening! You’re her brother!”

“Yeah,” Derek said, not bothering to explain to Kate that he’s not going to ask Laura to fire one of her employees to give him a job he doesn’t even want. “Fine. It’s the family dinner tonight, so I’ll talk to her.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Kate said. “Was that so hard?” she added, and flounced off without waiting for a response.

The last thing Derek wanted to do in his current frame of mind was have a sit-down dinner with his family, but it was a once-a-month tradition, and he also didn’t want to deal with their concern if he didn’t show. He had about an hour before they would need to leave, and he wanted to spend it as far away from Kate as possible. He got back in the Camaro and drove for a bit, thinking of the last time he and Stiles had gone somewhere, how much he had loved having Stiles slouched in the passenger seat, rambling about everything and nothing. By the time he got back to the house, he actually felt worse.

At least at dinner, there were plenty of people to act as a buffer between him and Kate. She only went with him every once in a while, but this time she had decided to go, which didn’t really surprise him. She wanted all his family’s attention right now, and they were happy to give it to her, despite how much they historically disliked her. The pregnancy had all his siblings excited, far more than Derek himself felt excited about it.

“So when’s your first doctor’s appointment?” Cora asked, shoveling green beans into her mouth.

“Oh, it was yesterday,” Kate said. “Everything’s cool.”

Derek blinked at her. “I – I wanted to go with you to that. I told you that.”

Kate shrugged. “The first one’s not a big deal. They just do some bloodwork and then prescribe you some vitamins.”

“Yes, but – ” Derek took a deep breath and fought not to lose his shit in front of everybody.

“Hey, you know what I was thinking?” Kate interrupted. “We should go house-hunting this weekend!”

That took Derek off guard. “Uh – why?”

“We’re going to have a baby, Derek! Obviously we’re going to need a bigger house.”

“The house we have is already too big for us,” Derek said, while his siblings shifted uncomfortably and tried to blend into the walls. “It’s got three bedrooms. One’s a guest room – ”

“And I use the other to work out in!”

“But there’s plenty of room downstairs for your exercise stuff, neither of us _ever_ uses the den, and we never use the guest room either! Even if one of your friends comes to town, they always stay in a fancy hotel. We’ve literally never had anyone stay in that guest room so we can just turn it into a nursery if you don’t want to move your exercise equipment downstairs – ”

“Okay, but we weren’t thinking about kids when we bought that house. I don’t even know what school district it’s in.”

“I’m sure whatever school district it’s in is fine, given the property taxes – ”

“C’mon, Derek, don’t be – ”

Talia cleared her throat. “Why don’t you two talk about this later?” she suggested. “How did your job interview go, Derek?”

“Uh, it went fine,” Derek said, hoping his mother doesn’t ask a lot of questions.

She didn’t, but Kate immediately jumped in, saying, “Actually, we talked about that, and I think being a mechanic would suit him much better. Laura, you can find a place for him, right?”

“Uh – ” Laura said, taken off guard. “Yeah, I mean, sure, if that’s what he wants – ”

“What he wants is the best life for the baby!” Kate said, and smiled sunnily at Derek. “Right, babe?”

“Right,” Derek choked out.

Seeing that he was about to lose it, Talia changed the subject entirely, asking Cora about how her work at the wolf sanctuary was going. Cora was always happy to talk about her wolves, and they spent the rest of the meal talking about that and Aaron’s work with Rescue Ink. Kate rolled her eyes a few times but amazingly kept quiet.

“Come see me at the garage tomorrow and we’ll talk,” Laura said as Derek and Kate were departing. Derek suspected that she didn’t mean about a job, but it seemed to satisfy Kate, who squeezed his arm as they left.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Well that was a complete disaster,” Talia said, when the door was finally shut behind all the kids and it was just her, Aaron, and Peter.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Peter said. “None of us murdered her, after all.”

“That might have been better than what actually happened,” Talia remarked, and Aaron gave a snort of laughter, rubbing his hand down her back in a soothing manner. “Jesus, Peter, I can’t watch this much longer. Tell me that you’re getting somewhere.”

“Define ‘somewhere’,” Peter said, and Talia groaned. “Don’t be so fatalistic. These things take time. I don’t travel in the same circles as Gerard Argent, and if I come on too strong, it might tip him off and then he could hide or destroy the evidence of what he’s done. But I’m getting there. I’ve been talking to Deucalion, if you remember him?”

“Ugh, how could I forget such a pretentious piece of shit,” Talia asked.

“Deucalion hates the Argents, doesn’t he?” Aaron asked. “Some old feud over a distillery that Argent bought out from under him.”

“Yes, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Peter said. “Deucalion knows every sorcerer on the west coast because his wife Marin is the head of the Los Angeles coven. He’s been getting me information on which of them might a) be susceptible to bribes, and b) be able to put up with Gerard’s bullshit.”

“Okay,” Talia said, although she sounded somewhat skeptical.

“And in the meantime, I’ve been talking to a young friend of mine who’s good with computers, who might be able to get me Gerard’s financial records, in return for the low, low price of a blue Maserati.”

Aaron gave a snort. “Which you just happen to have one of, I’m sure.”

“Actually I had to arrange for it to be shipped in from some rich asshole in Texas, so I hope you two appreciate what I’m doing for your son.”

Talia sighed. “You know we do, so don’t be a jerk. Anyway, shouldn’t we tell Derek at this point? Kate’s destroying him.”

“Not as much as he’ll be destroyed if the Argents find out what we’re doing and find a way to keep us from proving it and reversing it,” Peter said. “Can you even imagine the guilt trip Kate will put on him if he confronts her about not being his soulmate and then we don’t have the evidence?” He shook his head and continued, “We have to find the sorcerer. Everything is on hold until we’ve done that. Did you talk to Alan?”

“I did, but he said without being able to examine the magic on one of the Argents, he can’t say.”

Peter frowned. He hadn’t told Talia about the fact that Chris had come to him. She would inevitably think that solved everything and confront Kate. That, along with the fact that he wasn’t exactly ready to face what Chris had said, had kept him silent on the matter. But if Chris’ cooperation could help Deaton find the sorcerer, he would have to rethink. “All right. I’ll keep that in mind as an option, if Danny can’t get results in the next few days.” He looked at Talia’s worried scowl and Aaron’s softer concern, and said, “I’m not going to let Kate torture him forever. Another week at most. Just let me handle this.”

“Fine,” Talia said with a sigh. “As long as we can talk him out of getting a job as a mechanic in the meantime.”

Aaron squeezed her shoulder and said, “Even if he doesn’t take the job at Doug’s place because of Kate being a bitch, I can find something else for him in a couple weeks.”

“Okay. I guess we’ll just have to wait, then.”

“Don’t worry, Talia,” Peter said. “I’m going to take care of everything.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter is mildly nsfw and I'm very excited about it =D

Stiles studied the message on his phone for what felt like a small eternity before he hauled himself up off his bed and went downstairs, where his father was watching television. “Are you watching Cops?”

“No,” Noah said, then, “Maybe.”

Stiles snorted and dropped onto the sofa next to his father, leaning his back against the arm rest so he could look at him and not the TV. “Well, I’m glad I’m not interrupting anything important. Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Noah said, grabbing the remote. He sounded apprehensive, which Stiles couldn’t really blame him for. But he turned off the television and turned to face his son without further commentary. “What’s up?”

“I want you to know that I’m giving up on dating,” Stiles said, “forever.”

Noah sighed. “It’s been three weeks, Stiles – ”

“Read this,” Stiles said, and extended the phone to his father. He had sent a message to a man in his fifties who liked hockey and barbecue and country music, because he was running out of choices without getting into people who were an hour away. The response had been, ‘Your profile says you don’t have a soulmate. How is that possible? What’s wrong with you?’

Noah read it and grimaced. “That son of a bitch, I’m going to – ”

“That’s not even the worst message I’ve gotten,” Stiles said. “You were at work the night someone messaged me telling me that this website wasn’t for freaks like me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Noah said. “Stiles, tell me you’re not going to let some assholes drive you away from finding happiness.”

“I’m not going to find happiness on a dating website, Dad,” Stiles said. “Look, even the people who have been nice about it have pretty much all turned me down for the same reason. They’re on this website because they’re looking for someone who will understand their pain, who shares their life experience of having a soulmate, loving them, and losing them. I’m never going to understand that. And I’m too young for them. I’m not saying that because I wouldn’t be willing to date a seventy year old. I’m sure there are some seventy year olds out there who are very cool. But they aren’t willing to date me. I’m not what they’re looking for.”

Noah sighed. “I know that, but . . .”

“But you want me to be happy. I know,” Stiles said. “But I’ve been facing a lot of really shitty truths in the past couple weeks, and one of them is that I’m going to have to figure out how to be happy without a soulmate. The fact that I don’t have one isn’t something either of us can fix. And me trying to, to drown it with other people is only making it worse. It’s only reminding me of what I’m missing.”

For a long moment, Noah seemed to struggle with that. Then he nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Not having a soulmate doesn’t mean I can’t have a fulfilling career,” Stiles continued. “So I think that’s what I want to focus on right now. I talked to Peter – it’s weird with him being Derek’s uncle but he’s still my friend, and he’s literally the _only_ person I know who gets me, who gets _this_ – and he’s going to loan me some money to get into the police academy. I mean, it only costs about five grand, and that’s a drop in the bucket to that rich asshole. I’m going to become a police officer and I’m gonna make you proud and then in five or ten years, maybe I’ll think about dating again. But I can’t do it right now, Dad, and I need you to be okay with that.”

Noah reached out and pulled him into an embrace, hugging him tightly. “The only thing I care about is you being happy.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Stiles admitted. “But at least I can try.”

“Okay.” Noah thumped his back a few times and then let him go. “Wanna watch Cops with me?”

“Hell yeah I do.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Heyyy, babe,” Kate said as she came into the living room on Saturday night, with a bit of a slur to her voice.

Derek looked up over the edge of his book and frowned. “Are you . . . drunk?”

“What? Pfff, no,” Kate said. “It takes more than three martinis to get me drunk.”

“Okay, but – ” Derek had to stop talking and take a deep breath to keep himself from flying off the handle. “But you can’t have alcohol. The baby, remember, the baby?”

“For Christ’s sake, Derek, why are you making such a big deal out of this? A few drinks isn’t going to marinate the baby. It’s like the size of an olive; who the hell cares?”

Derek’s temper snapped. He threw the book as hard as he could. It missed Kate by about a foot, hitting the wall behind her with a smack. “Why are you like this?” he shouted.

Kate’s jaw sagged slightly. “Hey, you don’t get to – ” she started, but before she could finish the sentence, Derek had grabbed his shoes and his keys and stormed out. He was so angry that he almost couldn’t breathe through it as he zoomed out of the driveway in the Camaro. But by the time he had gotten out of their neighborhood and to the main drag, the anger had drained away, leaving an intense misery in its place. The loneliness hurt so much that it felt like a black hole inside him.

Without further consideration of the consequences, he took the turn-off to get to Stiles’ house. It had started raining, a hard, cold rain that perfectly summed up his mood. He was soaked within moments of getting out of the car, and he didn’t even care, pounding on the door of the house.

Stiles opened the door a few moments later, looking a little confused and a little worried. “Dude, are you – ”

“I love you,” Derek interrupted, and Stiles’ sentence stopped in its tracks. “And I don’t care that you’re not my soulmate. I don’t care if other people would think we’re wrong or crazy. I don’t care about anything except being with you, and I’m an idiot to have taken so long to figure that out. I – ”

“Oh my God, get in here,” Stiles said, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragging him in for a kiss. He kicked the door shut as soon as Derek was across the threshold, wrapping his arms around Derek and tangling his hands in Derek’s hair and kissing him like he was the only thing in the world. Derek cupped Stiles’ face in his hands and returned the kiss with equal passion for several long moments before they broke apart to catch their breath. “Oh my God, you’re soaked, I thought we said no cheesy rom-com stuff, did you seriously drive over here at eleven PM and confess your love _in the rain_ – ”

“We said no _stupid_ rom-com stuff,” Derek reminded him as he pushed Stiles back against the door, hooking his fingers underneath Stiles’ T-shirt and stripping it over his head. “This was the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Okay, good point, I – ” Stiles’ voice hitched in his throat as Derek buried his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck, nipping at the skin there. “Holy shit, I love you so much, I love your cute face and your amazing brain and your awesome body and I _definitely_ love the way you do that – ”

“I’m going to find so many things that you love when I do – ” Derek said, and then it was just a flurry of hands grasping and tugging until they had gotten most of their clothes off and it occurred to him that they might want to find a horizontal surface.

Stiles seemed to make the connection at the same time, because pulled away from Derek and tugged at his wrist. “Come on, we can’t have sex on the sofa, my dad would kill me – ”

The thought of a parental figure made Derek freeze. “He’s not – ”

“No, he’s not here, he works nights, remember? But still, he’d be able to tell if we defiled his sofa. If only because I plan to still be doing it when he gets home at six thirty – ”

“Holy shit, Stiles,” Derek said, flushing pink to the tips of his ears.

“We can take breaks,” Stiles told him, dragging him up the stairs and into a bedroom which he presumes is Stiles’. “Oh my God, even your underwear is wet,” he said, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Derek’s boxers and tugging them down.

Derek tangled both hands in Stiles’ hair and stepped out of his underwear, kicking it to the side. “Bed. Now.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Stiles said, as they tumbled onto it together. Derek pulled him into another kiss, running his hands up and down Stiles’ body in a way that made him shiver. He tugged Stiles’ underwear off and rolled his hips against Stiles’, leading Stiles to throw his head back and proclaim, “Fuck yes, that’s what I’m talking about!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek said, huffing out a laugh. “God, you’re so ridiculous and I love that about you so much.”

“Less talking, more kissing,” Stiles said, and Derek obeyed the directive with pleasure.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Two o’clock in the morning found Stiles and Derek in the kitchen, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to fortify themselves after a lot of exertion. “So what happened?” Stiles asked, reaching out to idly rub his hand up and down Derek’s spine. “I mean, I know I’m awesome, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t just randomly decide to come over tonight.”

“No, well . . .” Derek sighed.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Stiles said. “I’m just curious.”

“I would be too, if I were in your shoes,” Derek said. “I’m just worried that it might upset you.”

“Dude.” Stiles huffed out a laugh. “I’ve had three orgasms in the past three hours, and you’ve said ‘I love you’ eight times, which I know because I’ve been counting. Literally nothing could upset me right now.”

“Kate is pregnant.”

Stiles choked on a mouthful of sandwich, and ended up coughing so hard that Derek had to slap him on the back several times. “Okay, I’m okay,” he said hoarsely. “Hang on. Let me get some water.” He stood up and went over to the sink, filling a cup with water that he chugged. Then he refilled his coffee mug and sat down. “Okay. Okay. How should I put this tactfully? Let me think. Okay. The _hell_ she is.”

Derek gave a snort of laughter, even though it wasn’t really funny. “That’s what Peter said, too.”

“Yeah, well, Peter’s a pretty smart guy.”

“I know. And admittedly, I said it like that just because you had said nothing could upset you, so . . .”

“So you were trying to upset me?” Stiles reached out and poked Derek in the ribs. “Dick move.”

“A little.” Derek picked up his mug and turned it around in his hands several times. “After what happened while we were dog-sitting, Peter told me that I was an idiot. Which didn’t really surprise me. And I realized that I went over to talk to him because I _knew_ he’d tell me that I was an idiot. I _wanted_ him to tell me I was an idiot. I wanted him to tell me that we could be together and that I shouldn’t let anything stop me. Which is exactly what he told me. I went home thinking that I was going to tell Kate that, and then she told me she was pregnant.”

“Come on, that’s got to be total bullshit,” Stiles said. “I mean, I don’t want to be that guy, but . . .”

“I didn’t really believe it either, after I’d gotten over the initial shock,” Derek said. “Maybe a part of me wanted to, not because I want to have a baby with her but just because I didn’t want to believe she would tell a lie that would hurt me so much. And I may not know a lot about pregnancy, but I know Kate. She’s never wanted kids. I accepted that about her. If she’d really slipped up with her birth control and gotten pregnant, she would’ve had an abortion and never even told me about it.”

Stiles curled up in his lap, resting his cheek on Derek’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It makes things easier, to be honest. I can just cut ties with her and move on.”

“Okay.” Stiles pressed a kiss into Derek’s throat. “I’m still sorry, though. It sucks.”

“It does,” Derek agreed. “But I think the worst is over now, you know? I think things are going to be okay.”

“It is absolutely going to be okay, because I love you, and you love me, so actually things are going to be way better than okay.” Stiles leaned in for another kiss. “Now finish your sandwich because I’m ready for round four.”

Derek gave a snort of laughter and shoved the last bite into his mouth. “Your wish is my command.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Both Stiles and Derek were startled awake when there was a knock on Stiles’ bedroom door. “Hey, you up?” Noah said from outside, and then cracks open the door. “There’s a Camaro in our driveway that certainly isn’t mine, so I want you to know that I’m not opening this door and I can’t see if there’s anyone with you.”

“Morning, Dad,” Stiles said, somewhat blearily, and yawned. “’Sup?”

“You’re just normally up by the time I go to bed, so I wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Noah said. “Given what we talked about . . .”

“Ah, yeah.” Stiles started to grin somewhat goofily, and Derek couldn’t resist stealing a quick kiss. “Everything’s great.”

“Good. Are you working today?”

“Nope,” Stiles said. “Go sleep. I’ll see you later.”

Noah closed the door a little more hastily than necessary. Stiles snickered and wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist, cuddling closer. “He’s gonna flip his shit when he finds out about this,” he predicted. “He’s been on my ass about finding somebody to date, and I literally just told him a few days ago that I was going to give up on the whole thing. So I get why he was worried. To be honest he probably figures it’s Peter in here. I wasn’t having much luck on the dating scene. You missed the whole thing where I dated a grandmother.”

Derek choked out a laugh. “You what?”

“I really wanted to find somebody to be with, so my dad talked me into signing up for one of those website for people whose soulmates had died. So yeah, I went on a date with a woman who has three grandchildren. She was nice. Pretty sure she’s thinking about adopting me, but very much _not_ thinking about having sex with me. Which is fine by me.”

“Oof,” Derek said, and Stiles laughed harder. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get myself figured out.”

“Eh, I get it. It was a lot, you know.”

“Yeah. Hey, what time is it?” Derek leaned over Stiles and grabbed his phone. “Ten thirty, and . . . I have three missed calls from my mother.”

Hearing the anxiety in his voice, Stiles sat up. He didn’t ask what was wrong, though, since Derek was already swiping at the screen to bring up his voicemail. The message Talia had left was short and unilluminating, only saying, “Call me when you get this.”

“Shit,” Derek muttered, and Stiles reached over to squeeze his shoulder as he tapped the screen to call her. Fortunately for the sake of Stiles’ curiosity and concern, he put the call on speaker. “Hey, Mom, what’s up? Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, we’re all fine, but . . . where are you?”

“I’m at Stiles’. Why?”

“I’ve been on the phone with Gerard Argent half the morning. Apparently you and Kate argued last night?”

“Yeah. She came home drunk, I told her she shouldn’t drink if she was pregnant, she told me she didn’t care, so I left.”

Talia’s voice was a little thin. “She says the fight turned physical.”

Derek frowned. “I threw a book, but not _at_ her.”

“Okay. I want you to know that I believe you, but that’s not how she’s describing it. And apparently she has some bruises.”

“What? No,” Derek said, almost on reflex. “She didn’t have any bruises when I left last night.”

Stiles leaned over and said, “She’s a professional MMA fighter. She probably just went down to the gym this morning and had one of her buddies give her those.”

“That’s certainly plausible,” Talia said, “but the fact remains that she’s saying Derek gave them to her, and she’s talking about pressing charges. Derek, you need to come to the house, okay? Your father has made a few calls; he has a lawyer who’s going to go down to the station with you.”

“Oh – okay,” Derek said, not knowing what else to say. “I’ll be there in a half hour.”

“Okay.”

Derek hung up and looked over at Stiles, more flustered than truly upset. “You – you’re the one who knows all about police stuff. How bad is this?”

Stiles grimaced. “I mean, it’ll sort of depend on how hard the cops go. Your hands aren’t bruised, so if Kate has actual severe injuries, that’ll weigh in your favor and they might believe you. But it’s basically her word against yours. And since she’s pregnant, or at least saying she’s pregnant, that’ll make you look even worse. I’m not saying you’re going to end up in jail for life, but it’s not a great look, you know?”

“Yeah.” Derek sighed, pulling his shirt on. “That’s Kate.”

“Do you want me to come to your place with you?”

Derek hesitated, then said, “Maybe it’s better if you don’t get involved, at least for today. I don’t want Kate to decide to come after you somehow. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Yeah . . . well, no, it’s not okay, it sucks with the intensity of a black hole, but.” Stiles climbed out of bed and gave Derek a quick kiss. “But we’ll make it okay, somehow.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Peter stood in the background and listened while Aaron and the lawyer went over everything with Derek, before departing from the house. Derek would go in and make his statement. The police would undoubtedly not believe him. Aaron would post his bail, and they would be home that evening. Then, the lawyer said, they would need to find exonerating evidence, which would likely involve hiring a private investigator to figure out who actually gave Kate those bruises, and get them to make a statement.

In the meantime, Aaron said firmly, Derek would be staying with them, because there was no way he was going back to let Kate have another go at him. That was just fine with Derek, who admitted that he had spent the night at Stiles’ place and in fact planned on spending every night of the rest of his life at Stiles’ place. Peter smirked in satisfaction when nobody was looking.

Once everyone was gone, he excused himself from Talia’s worried pacing to make a call. Chris picked up somewhat warily, and Peter said, “All right, I’ll help you with your daughter. But you’re going to owe me a favor in return.”

“Which is what?” Chris asked.

“Come meet me for coffee and find out.” Peter hung, texted Chris an address, and then tucked his phone into his pocket. He slid on his shoes and left without bothering to say anything to Talia. She would know what he was doing without needing to ask.

Chris beat him to the coffee shop, and has already gotten them both drinks. He handed it to Peter and said, “Extra caramel.”

“The fact that you still remember my coffee order after four years is honestly more creepy than touching,” Peter said, and Chris scowled at him. “Do you have a little notebook full of facts about me that you memorized? Is it hidden from your wife underneath your pillow?”

Chris didn’t rise to his baiting. “What do you want, Peter?”

“First off, I want you to acknowledge a number of facts.” Peter sipped his coffee and found it acceptable. “Your sister is a terrible person.”

“Okay,” Chris said.

“She’s not pregnant.”

“Agreed.”

“If she thought Derek was going to leave her, she would do her best to prevent him from doing so even if that meant doing things that are illegal, immoral, or both.”

Chris’ eyes narrowed, but he nodded and said, “Okay.”

“Great. Then you should know that last night, Derek and Kate got in an argument. She came home drunk. He got upset because drinking is bad for ‘the baby’.” Peter couldn’t help but make the air quotes. “Kate told him she didn’t care; Derek got upset and stormed out and didn’t go back home. This morning Kate went to the police station with bruises and said that Derek gave them to her.”

Chris grimaced. “Even for Kate, that’s – are you sure he didn’t – ”

“If you imply in any way that my nephew actually beat his wife, who he believes to be pregnant with his child, I will upend this entire caramel macchiato on your head, knee you in the balls, and walk out.”

“Well – ” Chris cleared his throat and then thought better of whatever he was going to say. “Go on.”

“Kate’s pressing charges – or, more likely, she’s pressing charges up until the point she’s gotten Derek alone and bullied him into staying with her, at which point she’ll drop them, have a mysterious miscarriage, and go back to treating him like shit and spending his money. Agreed?”

“I – ” After a long moment, Chris sighed and waved a hand in acknowledgement. “Agreed.”

“So let’s make a deal. A little quid pro quo. You talk to your sister and get her to text you an admission that Derek never laid a finger on her, and in return, I’ll help you find a way to make sure your daughter ends up with her actual soulmate.”

“I’m not sure that’ll be as easy as you’re making it out to be.”

Peter shrugged. “Your sister has no idea that you and I even know each other. If you text her saying you heard from your father that Derek hit her, there’s a fifty-fifty chance she’ll respond that he didn’t. Given Kate’s personality, she’ll probably be insulted that you would think Derek could land a hit on her. She’s a God damned MMA fighter and my nephew is, as much as I love him, a marshmallow.”

“Fair enough. What do you intend to do about my family’s soulmate problem, then?”

“I figured I’d start by hacking into your father’s financial records and figuring out which Druid he’s hired to do his dirty work, then holding their feet to the fire until they cry uncle. You know, see where that takes me.”

Chris studied him for a long moment, then let out a breath. “Keep me posted.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Peter said, amused. “But you had better think about breaking the news to your daughter sooner rather than later . . . because I don’t mean for this to take long.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	9. Chapter 9

Derek had never had so much as a parking ticket – his mother’s glare alone would have killed him – so academically, the trip to the police station was interesting. Emotionally, it was a nightmare. Even with the lawyer there, the officers interrogated him for hours. They showed him the photographs of Kate’s bruises, and he had to admit they looked awful. They tried different interrogation techniques – one of them kept trying to sympathize with him, saying women could make men crazy, how he’d be upset if his pregnant wife was drinking too, and on and on. The other would lurk in the background and then occasionally imply that he thought guys like Derek should be strung up by their nuts.

The lawyer kept trying to get them to back off, but all they would say is that they had the legal right to hold Derek for twenty-four hours, and since they had ample evidence to charge him, they were going to exercise it. Occasionally they would give him breaks or bring him water, but it never lasted long before they were pushing him again.

Derek was solid and resolute in the fact that he had done nothing wrong. He repeated the same facts over and over again. Kate came home drunk. They got into a verbal altercation. He threw a book at the wall, and then left. Stiles could vouch for his whereabouts. There was nothing else to say. After a while, he stopped denying what the police said and simply sat in silence while they baited him. He got the impression that they found this profoundly irritating.

After four hours, there was a particularly long pause. It dragged on and one as he watched the minutes tick by. Finally, the lawyer said, “I’m going to go see what’s going on,” and left the room. Derek was left by himself, trying not to sweat.

Fortunately for him, it was only another couple of minutes before the lawyer came back in. “Time to go,” he said.

“What, really?” Derek asked, getting to his feet so quickly that he nearly knocked over the chair. The lawyer nodded, so he followed him out into the main room of the precinct. There he saw Peter, with a definite smirk, talking to Kate’s brother Chris. He frowned slightly, walking over. “Hey, uh, hey, Chris. What are you doing here?”

In a voice that was tight but even, Chris said, “I had texted my sister to ask how she was doing after my father told me about what happened last night. Her response led me to believe you hadn’t hurt her, so I came down here to make a statement to that purpose.”

Derek looked between the cops, who looked pissed off, to Chris’ tightly controlled expression, to Peter’s enormous smirk. He wondered if he even wanted the details. “Oh. Uh, okay. Thanks for doing that. I appreciate it.”

“I have to go,” Chris said, and turned on one heel and headed out of the station.

“Let’s head home,” Peter said, with far more cheer than the situation warranted. Derek shook his head slightly, shook the lawyer’s hand and thanked him, and then followed Peter down to the car.

“So if that’s what Chris was doing here, what are _you_ doing here?” Derek asked him. “It can’t have been just to give me a ride unless you knew he was coming. Which I’m thinking maybe you did.”

“Yes, because I asked him to text his sister and get her to admit that she’s a lying bitch on the record,” Peter said. “Let’s just say that he owed me a favor. I’ll give you more details once we’re back at the house – I don’t want to have to explain this more than once. Text Stiles and have him meet us there.”

“Sure,” Derek said, frowning. “Explain what?”

Peter rolled his eyes and didn’t respond.

Derek sighed, squelched his annoyance, and called Stiles rather than texted him, because he wanted to hear his voice. Stiles picked up with, “Hey! Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Derek said. “Or at least as okay as it’s going to get for a while. Can you come over to the house? I think my parents and possibly my uncle want to give you the shovel talk.”

“Dude,” Stiles said. “Kate just tried to frame you for assault. I’m really not worried about the bar that’s set to impress your parents. But okay, text me the address and I’ll be right over.”

“Okay.” Derek said goodbye and sent the text. When he got back to the house, he was immediately mobbed by his family. All of his siblings were there, as well as a couple other aunts and uncles, and they’ve all clearly been worrying all day. He assured them that although the experience wasn’t one he was eager to repeat, he had survived with no major scarring.

“But you’re like, never going back there, right?” Laura asked, wearing an enormous scowl. “Or better yet, you paid for the house, throw her out.”

“Right the fuck out,” Cora agreed.

“I’m not going back,” Derek said, and shook his head slightly. “She can keep the house if she wants. I’d rather not fight with her over it.”

“Maybe she’ll sell it back to you to pay for the lawyer she’s going to need once we’ve sued her into the ground over filing a false report saying you hit her,” Talia said, with a scowl that matched Laura’s.

Derek sighed. He knew he was never going to convince his family that he’d be happier just letting it go, if it meant he never had to see or speak to Kate again. He decided to talk to Stiles about it later. He might be able to help him figure out what to say.

In the meantime, Aaron could see that he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. He squeezed Derek’s shoulder and said, “Let’s order some dinner. Derek, if we get Chinese, do you know what Stiles will want?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, and there was the typical flurry of chaos as everyone told him what they wanted. About ten minutes later, Stiles arrived. Derek pulled him into a tight hug and just held onto him for a long minute before giving him a quick kiss. “We’re going back to your place tonight,” he muttered. “These weirdoes are going to be all over us if we stay here.”

Stiles snickered, but pulled away and let Derek introduce him to the family members he hadn’t met yet. Everyone had a lot of questions which Derek didn’t want to answer, and Aaron was constantly trying to redirect everyone from prying into their personal lives. Finally, the food came, and they had a family dinner that was lively bordering on raucous.

Once everyone had eaten, Peter said, “Well, Talia and I have some things to discuss with Derek and Stiles, so we’re going to steal them for a while.”

They were briefly swarmed by everyone who wanted to give Derek one more hug and tell Stiles ‘welcome to the family’ one more time, and then Talia ushered them into her study. She looked over at Peter and said, “You’re sure, at this point?”

“Positive,” Peter said, and Derek gave him a questioning look. “Well. Where should I begin? Derek, I finally have a thesis for you.”

“Uh . . . that’s great, Uncle Peter,” Derek said, giving him the side eye.

“You’ve been trying to figure out if the system can make mistakes,” Peter said, “but the question you should have been asking is whether or not the system can be hacked.”

Derek and Stiles looked at each other, then back at Peter. “And?” Derek said.

Talia huffed out a sigh. “You and your melodrama. Derek, Kate isn’t your soulmate. Stiles is. Gerard Argent has a way to corrupt the system, and he chooses wealthy soulmates for his family.”

“The fuck?!” Stiles blurted out, since Derek was stunned into silence. “How the fuck does he do that? You know what, I don’t even care, the answer is obviously magic, and I’m gonna kick his ass, taking _my_ soulmate away and giving him to that sentient trash heap he calls a daughter, and – what are you smiling about?”

His tirade trailed off as he saw Derek grinning, and at his question, Derek ducked his head, his cheeks flushing pink. The joy he felt was so intense that he nearly couldn’t contain it. “Nothing. I just. You’re my _soulmate_.”

Stiles blushed, too, and said, “Hell _yeah_ I am,” before leaning in for a kiss. Derek cupped Stiles’ face in his hands and they kissed for several long moments.

Peter gave a snort of laughter and waited for them to pull apart. “The reason we know this is because of Chris. He’s been separated from his real soulmate as well, and although he never felt that something was wrong the way you did, he knows that he didn’t have the relationship he was supposed to have. His daughter, Allison, is due to meet her soulmate in a couple weeks and he came to me to tell me what was going on and find a way to stop her from being matched with someone who isn’t her soulmate.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. “Okay. Awesome.” He went in for another kiss, which Derek was happy to return.

Talia cleared her throat, then shook her head and said, “You know what? Never mind. We don’t actually need your help; we just needed to tell you what was going on. Why don’t you two go find some privacy. Peter and I will work out the details from – ”

“’Kay, bye,” Derek said, getting to his feet and picking Stiles up in a reverse piggy-back, still kissing him as they left the room. “So should we head over to your place?”

Stiles squirmed a little, which made Derek squirm. “My dad will be up at this hour. And I’m . . . I think he’s going to have mixed feelings about this whole development, and might in fact not believe me about any of it until we have solid proof.”

That took Derek aback, and he let Stiles down. “You don’t want to tell him?”

“No, I do,” Stiles said. “I just don’t want to tell him _right this second_ , because there are literally so many better things we could be doing.”

“Only if we find a place to do them,” Derek said. “Hey, we’re leaving, good night!” he shouted to his siblings, and then pulled Stiles out of the house as he heard them stampede toward him. Stiles was laughing as they got into the Jeep. “Okay. I know it gives you the heebs when people spend money on luxuries. But if you could make an exception for tonight, I have an idea. How about a hotel?”

Stiles’ eyes lit up. “Yes! I mean, obviously I wouldn’t spend the money just for myself, but for the two of us? Let’s get something fancy. We never got a chance to use the hot tub at your friend’s place.”

Derek gave a snort of laughter. “That’s true, huh? Okay. Give me a sec.”

It took a few minutes on his phone to locate a hotel about twenty minutes away that advertised having a honeymoon suite with a hot tub, which came up as available for the night. “Let’s do this!” Stiles said, putting the Jeep in gear and pulling out of the driveway. “This is gonna be so awesome, we’re gonna have sex on every square inch of that place and then cuddle on every square centimeter and tomorrow we can tell my dad what’s going on, and hell, I’ll put him on the phone with your parents if I have to . . .”

“Why do you think he’s going to be weird about it?” Derek asked.

“Well, because it was really obvious that I was falling in love with you, but there wasn’t really a lot of evidence that you were falling in love with me – I mean, from his perspective. He never actually saw us together. He just heard me talk about you, and pretty much thought that I was just developing a hopeless crush on a married man.”

Derek grimaced. “I can see why he would think that, I guess.”

“I even said at one point, you know, ‘what if Derek doesn’t get along with his soulmate’ and my dad looked at me like I’d grown another head. Which is also fair, all things considered. But I’m worried that he’s going to think you have some weird angle, or that I’ve passed my delusional ideas onto you.”

“I can’t imagine what angle that would be.”

“Me neither, but . . .” Stiles shrugged. “But it’s all messed up now, you know? Because of what Kate and her family did. I think it’s going to take some time to get everything sorted out.”

“Yeah.” Derek shook his head. “God, I wish we could get a do-over. Just go back to when I turned nineteen and have your name on my wrist.”

“That would be nice. But you know, I think there’s some benefits in having done it this way. I mean, we _chose_ each other. Fate, the universe, magic, none of that did it for us. We decided all on our own that we wanted to be together, no matter what anyone else thought, and that’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?”

The thought brought a smile back to Derek’s face. “I guess it is.”

“So don’t worry about my dad. Or about Kate and her family. We got this far together, so, you know. We can do anything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Derek leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Yeah, okay.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Before going to sleep, Stiles had texted his father saying he was staying the night with ‘Camaro Guy’. Noah had asked if ‘Camaro Guy’ had a name, to which Stiles replied that he did, and someday he might even tell his father what it was. Noah had sensibly not replied to that.

“I’m calling in sick to work,” Stiles said, as soon as his phone’s alarm went off. “Oh, God. Why did I not shut that thing off last night?”

Derek snorted and nuzzled his face into Stiles’ neck. “You’re sure that’s okay?”

“Yeah. Dude, I never call out. They can let me have one day.” He yawned and stretched, smirking at Derek’s admiring gaze, then dialed his phone. He talked briefly to his manager and said he had a stomach bug, before hanging up and cuddling back into Derek’s embrace. “We should just stay in bed forever.”

“I can think of several logistical flaws to that,” Derek murmured.

“We should stay in bed all morning?”

“Much more feasible. An excellent idea, really.”

Two minutes later, just when things were really getting good, Derek’s phone chimed. They both ignored it.

Two hours later, after they had ordered room service for breakfast, decided to take a quick shower, had it turn into a very long shower, had it turn into something else altogether, had eaten breakfast, and finally discussed the possibility of putting clothes on at some point, Derek finally looked at it. “Peter,” he said. “Wants us to meet him and some Druid.”

“Uh,” Stiles said, remembering when the phone had chimed, “how long ago?”

Derek gave a snort of laughter. “He said ‘whenever you’re available’ and to text him before we headed over to his place so he could expect us.”

“So theoretically . . . it wouldn’t even need to be today,” Stiles said, his eyes gleaming.

“True, and I don’t know about you, but I actually need a break.”

Stiles’ nose wrinkled, and he said, “Okay, fine. We can go see what your uncle wants, maybe grab a cheeseburger or something, before we come back here and watch movies while we make out.”

Derek texted Peter to let him know they were on their way, and they made it about half an hour later. Chris was there, as well, wearing an enormous scowl. Derek wondered if he’d been waiting for them, because if he’d spent the last several hours with Peter, that could definitely explain the scowling. Along with them was Alan Deaton, a man Derek had met several times in conjunction with his father’s animal rescue, but didn’t know very well.

“Oh, hey, Dr. Deaton,” Stiles said. “What are you doing here?”

Deaton gave him a smile that had a calming effect. “Peter called me for a consult.”

“Alan’s one of the most powerful Druids in the area,” Peter said, and both Derek and Stiles blinked at him, surprised. “What, you didn’t think being that good with animals was natural, did you? Never mind.” He waved this aside. “I was busy last night while you two were . . . busy in a different way,” he continued with a smirk. “I tracked down the sorcerer that Gerard Argent has been using to hack the soulmate magic.”

“Already?” Chris was startled.

“Well, it wasn’t difficult,” Peter said, arching his eyebrows at Chris. “I just took a peek at his financial records to find out who he had made large payments to around the time of the nineteenth birthdays of your family. I told you yesterday that I didn’t intend for this to take long.”

“Yes, but . . .” Chris sputtered a little.

Peter’s smirk widened. “I know you find my competence devastatingly sexy, but keep it in your pants, Chris. We have work to do.”

Derek’s jaw sagged. “You – Peter, do you actually have a soulmate?”

“No idea,” Peter said casually. “But I’ll admit that Chris and I are acquainted from the past, as . . . more than friends.”

“This – this is the guy! Tahoe guy!” Stiles sputtered.

Chris gave Peter an appalled look. “You told him?”

“Yes,” Peter said evenly. “Stiles is my friend, and I’m allowed to tell anybody I want about what you did.”

“I should kick his ass,” Stiles said.

Amused, Peter said, “That’s not necessary, although I appreciate the impulse. Now, Alan, could you take a look at the magic and see what you think?”

Chris seemed uncomfortable as Deaton placed a hand over the mark on his wrist. “If you found the sorcerer that my father uses, why do you need Deaton to do anything?”

“Well, just because I found that sorcerer doesn’t mean he was willing to help me,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “Actually he got very recalcitrant about the whole thing. Said we couldn’t prove anything, those payments were just consulting fees, he hadn’t done anything wrong, et cetera. Now, I could try to blackmail or pressure him into helping anyway, but I figured first we would take the easier road and see if this is something that Deaton can undo.”

“What if it works?” Chris asked. “I mean, will it ripple down?”

“You mean, will your name disappear off your wife’s wrist?” Peter asked, still smirking.

Chris didn’t flinch. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. And before you ask, yes, I have told her about this. I told her right after I found out, in case she wanted input on who was going to be chosen for Allison. But I think it might still be a bit of a shock to her if my name suddenly vanished, so I’d like to call and warn her.”

“Right now I’m just studying the spell,” Deaton said, “which would be a lot easier if you would all be quiet.”

Chris’ mouth tightens and Stiles snickers despite himself.

Several long moments passed in silence. Peter pulled out his phone and started tapping busily at the screen. Stiles tapped his fingers on the table, got bored, and started rubbing Derek’s knee where nobody could see. Derek tried to ignore him, since they were in semi-public.

Finally, Deaton pulled away and said, “I do believe it’s reversible. And yes, I think the effect will ripple down, as you put it, but only to a point. Undoing the spell on you will free your wife from the binding that has affected her. Your name will indeed vanish from her wrist. However, nobody else’s will appear there. She will have to have the real, unpolluted version of the spell done on her, as will her own soulmate, whoever that may be.”

Derek cleared his throat and said, “Can you do the spell on me? Or do you need to reverse it on Kate first?”

“The spell has to be reversed on whichever Argent it was done on initially,” Deaton said.

“What if she’s not willing?” Derek asked.

“Then I will tie her to a chair and wrap her head in duct tape,” Peter said, with a charming smile. “In any case, I don’t want to undo anything today – despite my urge to make Chris call his wife and warn her. There are some things we’re going to want to do first, if we want Gerard to be held responsible for what he’s done. And the first thing that we need to do is flip the sorcerer.”

“How do we do that?” Stiles asked, looking more excited than Derek felt was appropriate.

“Like so.” Peter took out a fine-point Sharpie and offered it to Chris. “If you’d like to write your name where you say it belongs?”

Chris gave him a sharp look, but then nodded and wrote his full name on the inside of Peter’s wrist. Peter smirked at him. “Now, I’m going to go to the sorcerer and convince him that we’ve already undone the spell and that Gerard has already been arrested and said that he had no idea some strange sorcerer was doing all this magic.”

“Isn’t that entrapment?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head. “I mean, Peter needs to do this right – needs to have him brought down to the station and provide a lawyer if he asks for one – but it’s one hundred percent legal for police to lie to a subject during interrogation. Telling them that one of their accomplices has flipped on them is actually one of the most common lies told, along with the lie that they have evidence they don’t.”

“That’s a little terrifying, actually,” Derek said.

“Yeah, well.” Stiles shrugged. “Look, I love cops. I want to be a cop. But they aren’t your friend, especially if they suspect you of a crime. Never talk to a cop without a lawyer. The more innocent you are, the more you need one.”

“Well put, Stiles,” Peter said. “And yes, I suppose it’s necessary to get some actual officers of the law involved. They’re already pretty pissed at Kate for filing that false report against Derek and wasting half their damn day interrogating him, but it would be nice to have a contact there who could help us. Perhaps your father could provide some assistance? You said he still regularly socializes with them.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Now that we have Deaton to back us up on the magic so he won’t think I’ve completely lost my marbles, I’ll talk to him and we can go from there.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Peter turned to Chris. “Today is your last day to discuss this with your wife and daughter. Tomorrow, these spells are coming off.”

“Okay,” Chris said, with a nod.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	10. Chapter 10

Since Peter would be necessary for the interaction with the sorcerer, he went back to the Stilinski house with Stiles and Derek. Fortunately, it was Tuesday, which was one of Noah’s nights off. “Will he be up?” Derek asked, as they pulled out of the parking lot in the Jeep.

“Not for a couple hours. He splits his free time in half. He gets home at a little after six and goes to bed around nine AM, then gets up around five and has a few hours of free time before he has to go to work. He started doing it that way because I was still in high school, and he wanted to see me off to school in the morning, and I’d cook dinner in the evening, so, you know. It works.”

“What should we do until then?” Peter asked, with a sunny smile.

“I can think of a few things we had planned, but you wouldn’t be invited,” Stiles muttered.

Derek laughed despite himself. “Come on, Stiles. Peter figured out that we’re really soulmates, after all. We should be nice to him, by which I mean we should interrogate him thoroughly on what’s up with him and Chris.”

“Oh, yeah! An excellent idea,” Stiles said, and Peter rolled his eyes. “Let’s stop and grab some coffee.”

“I suppose if you insist,” Peter said. Stiles and Derek obviously did, and a few minutes later they were sitting down in a coffee shop not far from the library.

“So when did you figure it out?” Derek asked. “About me and Stiles.”

“Not until I saw Chris at the family dinner where Kate announced her ‘pregnancy’.” Peter made the air quotes, which made Derek grimace. “I had actually met him several years prior, but didn’t know he was related to Kate. When I found out he was, it gave me some suspicions.”

“Because you thought he was your soulmate?” Stiles was on the edge of his seat, listening eagerly.

Peter sighed. “You two won’t let me rest until you hear the whole story, will you,” he said, and Derek and Stiles both agreed. Peter told Derek about meeting Chris at the lodge and how they had left things, then explained what he had found out after he had met Chris again. “But I wasn’t one hundred percent sure until Chris himself came to me and confirmed the theory,” Peter said.

“Why did he do that?” Derek asked.

“Because he doesn’t want his daughter to end up with a fake soulmate, basically,” Peter said. “The one they chose for her is turning nineteen soon, and they’ll meet for the first time. Plus I think he’s been genuinely disturbed at how Kate treats you, and he’s afraid that Allison’s soulmate might be the same way.”

“Wow, I’m so glad he’s concerned for his daughter after watching Kate treat Derek like shit for _eight years_ ,” Stiles said.

Peter shrugged. “You won’t catch me defending him. I think he’s a coward and a prick. Whether or not he’s my soulmate, I don’t know. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Or burn it down. I haven’t decided which yet.”

Derek cleared his throat. “Look. I’m not about to say he did the right thing. But I do think that maybe we should have a little sympathy for him. Kate’s told me things about her dad . . . the guy makes Denethor look like a kindly father.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Stiles said, snickering.

“It was the best thing I could come up with on the fly,” Derek said, scowling. “Gerard Argent is a fucking tyrant. Kate escaped the worst of it because she was his favorite. But one year at Thanksgiving? The family was laughingly recounting the story of the time he punished Chris for sneaking a cookie by making him eat an entire bar of baking chocolate. You know, the super bitter stuff that you aren’t actually supposed to eat? That was when Chris was four. And they’re all just telling this story like it was hilarious, right in front of his wife and kid.”

Stiles grimaced. Peter sighed and said, “That’s why I said I hadn’t decided yet what I was going to do. I’ll admit that those six days were amazing. If you had asked me at the end of them whether or not he was my soulmate, I would have said yes, absolutely. But we’re both older now. We’ve had so much time stolen from us. I’m not sure there’s any making up for that.”

Derek and Stiles glanced at each other, then silently agreed not to push Peter on the matter. It was a lot to process, and to be honest, Stiles couldn’t blame him for being hesitant. After a moment, Stiles said, “So Chris came to you to tell you what was going on?”

“Yes, and to ask my help figuring out how to keep Gerard from doing it to Allison. Arresting him seems like a sound choice, if less painful than I would prefer.”

“What can he even be charged with?” Derek asked, frowning.

“Fraud, primarily,” Peter said. “He’s forging a magical contract where one isn’t supposed to be, without the consent of all parties. I’m not sure whether or not that qualifies as magical assault since the spell didn’t cause any actual harm; the lawyers will have to hash that out. Any of the Argents who knew of the scheme will probably be charged as accomplices, including Kate. Chris will get immunity since he’s willing to testify.”

“Do you think they all actually knew?” Stiles asked.

“All of them? I doubt it. Chris didn’t find out until his daughter was reaching the age that they were going to choose someone for her. That means his older sister would know – she has two children whose ‘soulmates’ have been chosen – but said children probably don’t. Kate herself? It’s anyone’s guess. She doesn’t have children, but she _is_ her father’s favorite.”

“I don’t think she did,” Derek said. When Peter gave him a questioning look, he said, “I mean, just because . . . if she knew I wasn’t actually her soulmate, I feel like she would have been a little more careful _not_ to completely alienate me. She relied on the bond to keep me with her.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Peter said. “She relied on your _perception_ of the bond to keep you with her. I’m not sure it’s actually possible for Kate to treat somebody well. But we’ll find out in due time, I suppose.”

Stiles leaned in and gave Derek a quick kiss. “Let’s not try to rationalize Kate. I mean, she’s the worst. That’s all there is to it.”

Peter gave a snort. They killed some time at the coffee shop before heading back to the Stilinski house. Stiles wanted to cook something so they could talk things out over dinner, which would hopefully distract his father. “Wanna help me in the kitchen?” he asked, as they headed inside.

“Sure,” Derek said.

“Pass,” Peter replied, which made Stiles roll his eyes. “What? I didn’t sign up for that.”

“You just don’t want Stiles to know what a lousy cook you are,” Derek said, and Peter flipped him off. Derek smirked and continued, “One time he cooked a steak that ended up so burnt and tough that the _dogs_ wouldn’t eat it.”

“Holy shit,” Stiles said, cackling. Peter gave his nephew a cuff on the back of the head and then headed into the living room.

Stiles and Derek actually wound up having a great time in the kitchen, partly because they periodically ended up making out instead of doing meal prep. By the time Noah came downstairs, the food was almost ready. “Hey, Dad!” Stiles greeted him. “I made carbonara and garlic bread. Hungry?”

“Yes, and now also suspicious,” Noah replied. “You normally make far too big a deal about me eating anything with over a gram of fat in it. So why are you buttering me up? No pun intended.”

“You absolutely intended that pun,” Stiles accused. “But, uh, yeah. Anyway. I want you to meet Camaro Guy.”

Noah’s eyebrows went up. He extended a hand to Derek and said, “Noah Stilinski. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Derek said, then added, “My name’s Derek. You’ve probably heard Stiles mention me.”

“Repeatedly,” Noah said, unable to hide his surprise.

“And this is Peter,” Stiles added, as Peter came in from where he had been nursing a beer on the back porch. “Who’s mainly here as a witness who can vouch for the fact that Derek and I haven’t completely lost our minds.”

“Start talking,” Noah said.

Peter pulled out a chair and sat down. After a moment, Noah did too, although he still looked wary. Stiles busied himself finishing up with the salad so he wouldn’t have to see the look on his father’s face. Derek hovered close to him, anxious despite himself. “Stiles said you still have friends down at the station that you talk with regularly,” Peter said.

That clearly wasn’t the opening that Noah expected, but he nodded. “I do.”

“Good, because we’re going to need your help with them. Gerard Argent has employed a sorcerer who performs a corrupt version of the soulmate spells on his children, nieces and nephews, grandchildren, et cetera. Gerard chooses someone from a large, wealthy family, and assigns them to a member of his own. For example, his son Chris’ soulmate is the daughter of a wealthy corporate attorney – and is now one herself, for that matter. His daughter Constance’s soulmate is the son of a hotel magnate. And for Kate, he chose Derek.”

Noah listened to all this in silence, glanced over at where Stiles was studiously not interacting, then said, “You’re saying that Derek’s soulmate isn’t actually Kate?”

Peter nodded. “And the affect of the spell filters down. Kate’s real soulmate, whoever that may be, would have no mark, just like Stiles has no mark because he’s Derek’s real soulmate.”

“Jesus.” Noah rubbed a hand over his face. “Are you sure about that?”

“I’d say about ninety-nine percent,” Peter said. “The first part, one hundred percent. Dr. Deaton, who I think you know, verified the fact that the magic had been influenced. The part where Stiles is Derek’s soulmate, we can’t be sure of until the corrupted version of the spell is removed from Kate, whereupon Derek can have the spell redone on himself to reveal his true soulmate. But if that doesn’t turn out to be Stiles, I will be extremely surprised.”

“Me too,” Derek said, looking over at Stiles, who flushed a little pink. Noah looked between the two of them, and he still looked extremely wary. Derek squared his shoulders. “Look. Magic aside, Gerard Argent’s corruption aside, forgetting all of that . . . I love your son. More than I ever thought I could love anybody. Trying to push him away so I could be with the person this magic told me to be with made me miserable. No matter what happens once we straighten all this out, I just want to be with Stiles.”

Noah studied him for a long minute, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Derek let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Okay.”

“And, food!” Stiles was still blushing as he started putting dishes on the table. He and Derek both sat down and they started passing the food around.

“So what do you need my help with?” Noah asked.

Peter explained the plan they had to get the sorcerer to confess on the record and give them the goods on Gerard. Noah listened in silence, frowned occasionally, but nodded when he was done. “That sounds pretty doable. I’ll make a couple calls tomorrow morning, if you don’t think it needs to be tonight.”

“No, honestly tomorrow would be better, because we want him to think that I’ve had time to find someone to undo the spell,” Peter said, gesturing to the name written on his wrist.

“Okay, sounds good,” Noah said. He pointed his fork at Stiles and Derek and said, “Now, you two. Tell me everything. Derek, I want to hear all about you.”

Stiles made a face and said to Derek, “Told you he’d want to interrogate you.”

Derek shrugged. “Could be worse. I mean, my siblings practically smothered you, so I can’t really claim that my family is less weird.”

Stiles laughed. “Fair enough.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Everything at the police station went well. The sorcerer cracked like an egg once he thought he was caught, and immediately rolled on Gerard. Officers were sent to arrest him, and Peter let out a breath he didn’t want to admit he had been holding. He pulled out his phone and texted Chris. ‘Hope you’re ready for the grand finale.’

Chris responded almost immediately. ‘I’m ready. I’ve talked to Victoria and Allison.’

‘Good. Bring them with you if they want Deaton to do the soulmate spell on them,’ Peter replied. ‘Can you bring Kate, too?’

‘No. She’s pissed at me about what happened with Derek, so she’s not talking to me.’

‘Fine. We’ll meet at Derek’s house, then. If she’s not there, we’ll wait for her.’

‘Okay. Can we talk somewhere first?’

Peter looked down at the phone and sighed. He supposed he hadn’t really believed that Chris would just let this go. ‘I want to get this over with. If you can make it to Kate’s before the others, you can say whatever you want while we wait.’ He put his phone away and got behind the wheel without waiting to see if Chris was going to reply.

Whether he replied or not, he must have driven quickly, because he was waiting in the driveway when Peter got there. “Kate’s not here,” he said by way of greeting, as Peter got out of his Cobra. “Victoria and Allison are waiting inside.”

Peter nodded and checked his phone. He had texted both Derek and Stiles before heading out, and saw that Stiles had replied with ‘on our way’ about fifteen minutes previous. “We’ve probably got a few minutes to talk before Derek and Stiles get here, so say what you have to say.”

Chris took a breath and then let it out. “You were right,” he said. “I should have started this whole thing off with an apology. I’m sorry about the way I ended things in Tahoe. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”

Peter considered that, then nodded. “Keep talking.”

“I understand why you’re upset,” Chris continued. “I would be too in your shoes. I can see how it looks like I didn’t care about you, about us, enough to try to fix things. Because frankly that’s true. I can try to talk around it, but it’s true. I care about my daughter’s life far more than my own. And yes, more than yours. I did believe you when you said you were fine without a soulmate. Maybe I shouldn’t have. But try to look at that from my point of view. All my adult life, I felt like something was missing. That there was this hole inside me. I finally found out what it was. It was you. And then you told me that you hadn’t felt it. That you had never noticed missing me, the way I had missed you. It was just confirmation of something I had been told my entire life. That I wasn’t . . .”

“That you weren’t someone that people cared about,” Peter finished quietly, remembering some of what Chris had told him back at that hotel, about his family.

“Yeah. And my father . . .” Chris looked away, rubbing his hand over the back of his head. “If leaving Victoria and being with you without disrupting everything that my father had set up for the family had been possible, I would have done it. But I couldn’t. Because as soon as anyone found out about the soulmate thing, well . . . this would happen.” He gestured broadly to everything. “All my siblings, my cousins, my niece and nephew, every single one of their lives would change forever. The ones who knew could be in legal trouble.”

“You say that as if they don’t deserve it,” Peter said. “As if your father doesn’t deserve the trouble he’s in.”

“I say that like I couldn’t even imagine what he would do to me if he found out I betrayed the family!” Chris retorted. His face flushed and he looked away. “For Allison, I was willing to risk that. For us, I wasn’t. If that makes you angry, if it upsets you, I’m sorry. But you wanted the truth so there it is.”

Peter was quiet for a moment before he stepped closer and curled his hand around Chris’ forearm. Chris blinked up at him in surprise, clearly having not expected that reaction. “Look,” Peter said, “I don’t have kids. So maybe I can’t get it. But I know that my sister would literally die to protect her children, and that my parents, as much as they were sometimes disappointed in me, would have done the same for me. And I don’t know what your father did to you to make you so afraid of him, so maybe I can’t get that either. I can’t fully understand your apology, but I’ll accept it.”

Some of the tension went out of Chris’ shoulders, and he managed a nod. “Thanks.”

“I hate the fact that we lost so much time that we could have been together,” Peter said, “but I’ll hate Gerard for that, not you. And it seems stupid to continue to lose time.”

Chris looked up hopefully. “Does that mean you want to be together?”

“Yes . . . but only on one condition,” Peter said. He slid his hand down to Chris’ wrist and gave it a squeeze over where Victoria’s name currently was. “Deaton is going to undo this spell on you, on Kate, et cetera. He’ll redo the spell on Derek and Stiles, and presumably on Kate as well, if she asks for it. He’ll redo it for Allison and Victoria if they want. But if you want to be with me, then don’t have him redo it for you. And I’m not having it done either.”

At this, Chris frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“I want you to choose me, Chris. Choose me because you care about me, because you’re attracted to me, because we spent six magical days snowed in together. Don’t choose me because a magic spell tells you to. Choose me because you want me.”

“You were the one saying we didn’t know if you were my soulmate,” Chris said.

“I know. We don’t. I don’t want to know. I don’t want magic telling me who I should be with. I want to make that choice myself, and I want you to make it yourself too.”

After a long moment, Chris nodded. “Okay.”

Peter gave his wrist one last squeeze and then let go. “Then let’s get this done, and take a trip to Tahoe together to see if we can start over.”

Chris seemed a little disappointed that they weren’t going to kiss at least once, but he didn’t push the issue. Instead, he nodded and said, “How about you come meet my daughter?”

“I’d like that,” Peter said, following him into the house.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Stiles was practically going out of his mind from excitement as they pulled into the driveway of the house where Derek had lived with Kate. Then he was immediately distracted by the sharp angles and unusual structure. “This is where you lived? This place is ugly as hell.”

“I did tell you,” Derek said, amused. He parked behind Peter’s Cobra and they headed inside. Peter and Chris were already there, along with Victoria and Allison, who he had met at the Argent house a few times. Victoria was stiff and unfriendly, but Allison greeted them with a smile and looked genuinely pleased to meet Stiles.

“We’re just waiting for Kate,” Peter said, gesturing to where Deaton was waiting. “Can you get her here?”

“Yeah, as long as she’s not out of town or something,” Derek said. He took out his phone and pulled Kate up in his contacts.

She picked up with, “What do you want?”

“I need you at the house,” Derek said. “There’s some paperwork we need to go over.”

“What paperwork?” Kate asked.

“The house is in both our names,” Derek said. “We need to transfer it to just yours.”

“You’re giving me the house?” Kate sounded suspicious.

“I hate this house. I’ve always hated this house and you’ve always known that.” Derek let the impatience color his voice, knowing that Kate would expect him to be upset. “I just want to cut ties with you and never see you again, okay? Can we just fucking get this over with?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Kate said, and hung up.

“No mention of the baby she theoretically is pregnant with,” Peter murmured, and Derek just shook his head wearily.

Stiles curled his hand around Derek’s elbow and pressed a kiss into his temple. “Okay, I know that we’ve only technically been dating for like three days, and it’s not even one hundred percent confirmed that we’re soulmates yet, but I just want you to know, I would absolutely have your babies if I had the right equipment.”

Allison giggled, and after a moment, Derek laughed, too. “That’s a conversation we can have later,” he said.

Stiles nodded. “So what _are_ you going to do with the house?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Derek looked around. “I think it’ll depend on Kate. If she really didn’t know, if she actually thought I was her soulmate, maybe I will just let her have it. I don’t want it and I don’t need the money. But if she knew that I wasn’t . . .”

“It doesn’t excuse her behavior, you know,” Peter put in. “Being ignorant of the magic her father was doing wouldn’t make what she did to you okay.”

“No, I know that.” Derek sighed. “But what I said just now is true. I just want to cut ties. I don’t want to make it into some big thing.”

Peter shrugged. “Regardless of whether or not it’s a big thing, you won’t have to supervise it yourself. That’s what lawyers are for. Kate isn’t your soulmate, and this house was paid for with Hale money. The fact that the deed is in both your names is unimportant. Every judge in the universe would award you the house, because the circumstances that put her name on that deed were fraud. Owning the house may not be important to you, but let’s not reward Kate for the years she spent mistreating you.”

“Damn, he’s a lot more vindictive than you are,” Stiles said, giving Derek another kiss. “But I think he’s right. Let the lawyers handle it, let your parents get their money back. Maybe you and I can look for a place this coming weekend? Because we’re sure as hell not living here, and I don’t think we really want to live with my dad, either.”

“That’s true as hell,” Derek said, and Stiles laughed again. “Actually, since I’m here, and since Kate’s not likely to leave voluntarily or be evicted immediately, I think I’m going to pack a bag or two with some of my clothes and books.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Stiles said.

“Shout to me when Kate gets here,” Derek said, and headed for the stairs.

Peter glanced after him, concerned, and Stiles said, “He’s okay. It’s just a lot to process, that’s all.”

“You’re telling me,” Allison said. “I only just found out about this yesterday. I’ve never even met my fake soulmate, I’ve never gone through one tenth of the shit you guys have, and I’m _still_ having trouble processing all of it.”

Since she seemed nice, and talking about the soulmate stuff was guaranteed to cause awkward silences, Stiles asked whether or not she was still in school. It turned out she was a college senior and was majoring in French and History, and was also a professionally competitive archer. They talked about school for a while, until they heard a car door close outside. Stiles called up to Derek, who came down the stairs with a duffel bag.

Kate stopped in her tracks as soon as she was inside, and her lip curled at Chris. “What the hell are you doing here, you traitor?”

“If you’re still pissed that he told police Derek didn’t hit you, you can take that right the fuck outside,” Stiles told her. “Maybe if you hadn’t filed a false police report, that wouldn’t have happened.”

“Who the hell are you?” Kate retorted.

Chris cleared his throat. “Before we explain that, I have to ask if you know about the shit that Dad was pulling with the soulmate magic.”

Kate gave him a wary look, then glanced around the room. “What shit?”

“We all know, so if you’re just pretending you don’t, you can stop,” Derek told her.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Fine, Jesus. Yes, I know about Dad’s pet warlock and the fact that he chooses soulmates for us. You think I didn’t figure out within a week that this whiny pissbaby wasn’t actually my soulmate? I said something to Dad and he told me all about it. What’s your point?”

Chris had to take a deep breath before he could respond, and Peter actually had to grab Stiles’ elbow before he could launch himself at Kate. “My point is that as we speak, Dad is being arrested for fraud, and Dr. Deaton is here to reverse the corrupted version of the spells and perform them again.”

“You really did know,” Derek said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All this time, you knew. Didn’t you want to meet your real soulmate?”

“I don’t need a fucking soulmate,” Kate said. “All I need is a nice house and money to burn.”

Stiles looked at Derek and said, “Yeah, she _definitely_ does not get to keep this house.”

“Agreed,” Derek muttered.

“Can we just get this over with?” Victoria spoke for the first time, her voice icy.

“I can start with you and Chris,” Deaton said with a nod. He walked over to Chris, who extended his arm. Deaton drew his finger over Victoria’s name, then traced a symbol on the palm of Chris’ hand and began to chant quietly. The letters started to fade, and about thirty seconds later, they were gone. Victoria looked down at her wrist and saw that Chris’ name was gone from her skin.

“You don’t need to redo the spell to find my real soulmate,” Chris said, drawing his arm back. “I already found him.”

Deaton looked surprised, and Stiles looked between Chris and Peter, immediately grasping why Chris had made that decision. He saw that Peter was looking a little smug, and gave him a thumbs-up. Derek watched this exchange and rolled his eyes.

“Victoria?” Deaton said, and she held out her arm. Deaton traced the symbol and began chanting. A few minutes later, a stranger’s name appeared on her wrist.

Allison bounced on her heels in excitement. “Do mine next! Then Mom and I can go Googling!”

Stiles laughed, and even Victoria thawed enough to smile slightly. Deaton undid the spell on Allison, and then redid it, and Allison read the new name out loud. “Lydia Martin.”

“You won’t have to Google her,” Derek said. “I know her.”

“You know her?” Allison asked, surprised.

Derek nodded. “I interviewed her for my thesis. I tracked down about half a dozen people in America without soulmates to talk to. She’s doing graduate studies at MIT. I have her e-mail address, so I can text it to you.”

“While you’re doing that,” Deaton said, and walked over to Kate.

She folded her arms over her chest and scowled at him. “If any of you touch me, that’s assault, and I can and will defend myself.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Derek snapped, “Tell the cops I assaulted you again, I dare you,” and grabbed her arm. She sputtered and protested but apparently didn’t care enough about the spell to actually try to get free, instead rolling her eyes dramatically as Deaton traced the symbol on her arm. A few moments later, Derek’s name was gone. Derek looked down at his own wrist, now blank, and felt eight years of tension roll off his chest.

“Do you want me to redo the spell correctly?” Deaton asked.

“Well, yeah,” Kate said, with another roll of her eyes. Deaton did as she asked, tracing the symbol and chanting the words once more. No name appeared. Kate glared at him and said, “You did it wrong.”

“I very much did not, but I’ll do it again if you’d like.” Deaton repeated the spell, with the same effect.

“Oh my God,” Stiles said in an undertone. “She doesn’t have a soulmate. That . . . that is the most karmic thing I have ever fucking seen.”

“Screw you,” Kate said, pulling her arm back. “I don’t need a fucking soulmate anyway.”

“I mean, it does happen,” Derek said, recovering slightly from his surprise. “There are people who genuinely don’t have soulmates and are fine with that. Somehow I feel like it shouldn’t surprise me that Kate is one of them.”

“Can’t have a soulmate if you don’t have a soul,” Peter murmured, and Stiles gave a snort of laughter while Kate flipped Peter the middle finger.

Deaton turned to Derek and Stiles. “Are you two ready?”

“Hell fucking yes,” Stiles said, and Derek nodded. Deaton took Derek’s arm and began the spell. Stiles suddenly said, “Oh, by the way, before you see a weird ass name and panic, you should know that my real name is Mieczyslaw. Stiles is just a nickname.”

“I figured it was, but – ” Derek carefully tried to repeat the name. “How is it spelled?”

Stiles looked down at Derek’s wrist and a huge grin bloomed on his face. “Like that,” he said. Derek looked down at his wrist to see Stiles’ name there. Stiles grabbed him by the front of the shirt and drew him into a kiss. They were still kissing as he extended his hand to Deaton, letting him do the spell without ever pulling away from Derek.

“Come on,” Derek said, when they finally pulled apart. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What about me?” Kate interrupted. “What about the house?”

“Talk to my lawyer,” Derek said, before Stiles dragged him away.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everybody! Come see me on [my tumblr](http://gingersnapwolves.tumblr.com) if you want to keep up with what I'm working on! <3

Once everything had finally settled for the day, Peter texted Chris with, ‘Now that I think about it, I don’t really want to drive all the way to Lake Tahoe to start over. How about we just try a local bar?’

‘Sure,’ Chris replied, within seconds.

Peter smirked at his phone. He decided to avoid O’Malley’s, where people knew him, and suggested a more upscale bar where things would be a bit quieter, at eight thirty. He ate dinner and took a quick shower, dressed in his lowest-cut V-neck, and headed for the bar. Once there, he scoped out the tables in the back and found one that he thought would give them some privacy.

He headed back towards the bar and saw Chris there, looking around with an expression that was a mix of anger and grief. Then Chris saw him, and it cleared into relief. “Did you think I wasn’t coming?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“It would have been pretty dickish to agree on this and suggest a place, then not turn up.”

“That’s true,” Chris said. “Are you saying that you aren’t capable of being a dick?”

Peter laughed. “No.”

“Well, okay then. Let’s get a drink.”

“Okay, but you’re buying.” Peter headed up towards the bar, thought about ordering expensive Scotch, and changed his mind. He wanted something he could drink at a more leisurely rate, so he ordered himself a Cosmo. Chris got a beer, and they headed for the booth in the back. Peter insisted on sitting on the same side of the table as him, because he had plans if things went well.

For a few seconds, they sat in awkward silence. Peter said nothing, making it clear that Chris was going to have to initiate. Chris cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “So, uh . . . do you still ski?”

It was like being transported back in time. Peter vividly remembered that night at the bar in Lake Tahoe, where Chris had sat down next to him and asked if he was there to ski. Peter had been amused at the question with such an obvious answer, and teased him, leading Chris to flush a lovely pink.

The memory brought a smile to his face for the first time in years. Still, he couldn’t resist needling Chris a little. “No, I don’t. It reminded me too much of you.”

“Shit.” Chris looked away. “I, uh, I’m sorry.”

Peter had to choke back a laugh. “Your conversational skills are still atrocious.”

“Oh, come on,” Chris replied. “I asked one question and you murdered the conversation in its tracks.”

“I did,” Peter admitted. “It was unfair of me. Plus it was a filthy lie,” he added, sipping his Cosmo and giving Chris a wink. “Though I’ll admit I never went back to that particular lodge, I still quite like to ski.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Chris said.

Peter smirked, then reached out and grabbed Chris’ knee underneath the table. “You asked me out knowing that full well.”

Chris snagged his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. Peter lunged over at him, catching his mouth in a kiss. Chris made a muffled little noise, more surprised than anything else, but then returned it with equal passion. He pulled away a few moments later, out of breath, with Peter practically in his lap. “I thought you wanted to start over.”

“This is starting over,” Peter said. “It took us, what, fifteen minutes to fall into bed with each other last time?”

“Yes, okay, but it hasn’t even been three.”

Peter shrugged.

“Look, it’s just – ” Chris took a deep breath and then let it out. “I want to do this right. I don’t want either of us to wake up tomorrow morning and think that we didn’t talk things over, that things went way too fast. You’re the one who was showing doubts; now you’re trying to give me mouth to mouth. What the hell is that?”

“Honestly? I’m a lot more comfortable with my tongue in your mouth than I am having a conversation about my feelings,” Peter said. “I have never once, in my entire life, wanted to talk about my feelings.”

“So you thought, what, you would just jump into bed with me, I’d be satisfied with that, and we’d never have to talk about it?”

Peter considered. “Yes?”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Now that I’ve said that out loud, do you understand what a terrible idea it would be?”

“I need more alcohol for this,” Peter said abruptly, and stood up, heading back to the bar. Chris still had plenty of his beer left, so Peter got a martini for himself, took a moment to regain his equilibrium before going back. This time he sat down across from Chris. “All right. You know what the worst part was? I didn’t lie when I said I had never really missed having a soulmate. I don’t think I truly understood what the point of one was. Someone to share and compromise with?” He gave a dramatic shudder. “No thank you. But then I met you. And I realized that it was something I had never even contemplated before. That it was a connection I had no idea could exist. And then? You took it away from me. I’ve spent the last four years wishing I had never even fucking met you, because you made me understand what I was missing. You can’t – ” He had to stop and steady his voice. “You can’t _fix_ that, Chris. You can’t erase the last four years of pain and misery that I went through because of what your family did. I understand it wasn’t entirely your fault. I said I accepted your apology and I meant it. I said I wanted to start over and I do. But I don’t want to talk about this. Talking about it won’t accomplish anything beyond reminding me of why I was so pissed at you.”

“Okay.” Chris held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”

Peter waved it off. “That was my dramatic confession for the evening. I hope to never make another.”

Chris laughed quietly. “You know what was worst about it for me?”

“Mm?”

“He didn’t need to do it. My father. He had already married into a super wealthy family, thanks to his father. My parents aren’t exactly Walton family rich, but their net worth is in the low billions. Billions, with a b. There was no reason for my father to marry us all off to other rich people. He could spend and spend and never see the end of his money in his lifetime. I don’t understand why he did it, and I can’t stop trying to work it out.”

“Maybe he’s just an asshole,” Peter suggested.

Chris huffed out another laugh. “Yeah. Maybe so.”

“All right, that’s enough of that. Now for the serious questions.” Peter took a sip of his drink. “Tell me, Christopher . . . do you like cats?”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Okay, I know being soulmates doesn’t mean we should rush into anything,” Stiles said, “so for one thing I expect accolades for all the restraint I’m showing. But also, if the whole house-hunting thing took you off guard or was a step too far for you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not,” Derek said. “It’s just . . . it’s a lot to process. Suddenly having a soulmate that’s not Kate. Thinking about being able to live the kind of life I actually want to, not spending all my time trying to do what I thought would make Kate happy.”

“Believe me, I’m still processing,” Stiles agreed. He nestled closer and pressed a kiss into Derek’s jaw. “What are you thinking?”

“I was actually sort of wondering if I should try to complete my thesis.” Derek tucked an arm underneath his head. “I mean, the initial premise I was working off was obviously all wrong. But at the same time, I feel like what we discovered is pretty important. The idea that the system can be corrupted is a big fucking deal.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Stiles said. “I mean, I’m sure it’s going to be on the news and stuff. They’re probably going to have to write new laws about it. But is that really something you want to write a thesis on?”

“I’m not sure. I guess what I found out was the opposite of what I was looking for. I was trying to find evidence that the system could be wrong, but what I found was evidence that even in the absence of enforcement, the system is still correct.”

Stiles chewed on that for a minute. “Look,” he finally said, “if you want to write a paper on that, I’ll one hundred percent support you. Just remember that there are other people who could do that. Who probably _will_ do that. It’s not something you need to do, just to get the word out. It might be better, healthier, to be able to just put it behind us.”

“True,” Derek said. “I mean, if nothing else, I don’t know if it’s scientifically kosher to write a paper with oneself as a research subject. Although I guess I was already doing that.”

“Yeah, but you were trying to find other research subjects that matched your data,” Stiles said, then added, “and you did! You found me.”

Derek gave a snort of laughter and then gave Stiles a kiss. “Admittedly, it might be nice to spend less time with my head in books. Before we found out the truth, I was actually looking for a job, maybe somewhere that I could spend time with animals. Since, you know, I couldn’t have any dogs of my own. But that’s probably changed now . . . although I guess I shouldn’t assume.”

“No, we are definitely getting at least one dog,” Stiles agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get a job working with them if that’s what you want to do. Like, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“An astronaut,” Derek said promptly, and Stiles snorted with laughter. “And a star basketball player.”

“Okay, move forward in the timeline a little,” Stiles said, still laughing. “When sort of career were you thinking about when you were in high school?”

“Oh, in high school I still absolutely wanted to be a star basketball player,” Derek said. “But I also wanted to be a mechanic, like my mom.”

Stiles frowned and rolled over so he could rest his chin on Derek’s chest. “Then why didn’t you do it? That would have been the simplest thing in the world for you. You already knew how to do it, and your family owns what, a dozen shops?”

Derek was quiet for a minute. “I went to college because, you know, my parents both wanted me to be educated. I liked to read and find out interesting things so I was originally planning to major in history. Then when I was nineteen, only about six months after Kate and I met, I worked over the summer at Laura’s shop. And Kate would come see me at work. She made comments about me, about my body, that honestly really embarrassed me. The other guys would joke around about it. I wasn’t unattracted to Kate, you know - she was hot, and I was actually kind of flattered that she liked my body so much - but the way she did it in front of everybody made me really uncomfortable. I asked her to cut it out and she laughed it off, told me I was being too sensitive, that most of the guys there would kill to have a soulmate who would do that. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but after that summer, I just . . . never wanted to go back.”

Stiles reached up and brushed Derek’s hair out of his face, then leaned up for a gentle kiss. “I’m sorry that she ruined that for you,” he said. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does. I never told anyone about that before. I just told Mom and Dad after that summer that I didn’t think it was for me. And then I got obsessed with the whole soulmate thing, changed my major to sociology, and researched that for the next six years nonstop.”

“That actually makes sense to me,” Stiles said. He gave Derek another kiss. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you, and we’re in private so I figure this is okay, but the idea of you as a mechanic _is_ super hot.”

“Thanks,” Derek said, laughing quietly.

“Maybe just tell Laura you want a refresher course because you’ve been thinking about it lately,” Stiles said. “I dunno, man. More than anything else I feel like you need a couple weeks off just to enjoy, you know, life.”

Derek nodded. “Well, after I kind of broke up with you, Peter told me that I should apologize and take you to a tropical island to make love to you for a week straight.”

Stiles laughed. “The funny thing is, that’s just one way to show that Peter and I aren’t actually compatible. Because he’s so . . . _fancy_. Like, don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t say no to a tropical getaway. But really I’d rather stay here, and look for a house, get to know your family, pick out some dogs to adopt.”

“That sounds perfect to me,” Derek said, then amended, “Way beyond perfect.”

They kissed for several long minutes before settling back into a cuddle.

“Speaking of college,” Derek said into the silence, and hesitated. “Look. I know that I can’t really understand what you went through, given you and your dad’s financial situation. And I know that it bugs you to see people throwing money around and you don’t like it when people buy things for you. So I just want to put this out there, and I won’t mention it again, but maybe think about it and if you want to talk about it, let me know. If you wanted to go to college, you could do that now. My parents would be happy to pay for it.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Just . . . keep that in mind.”

Stiles was quiet for a minute. “I’m not mad or anything, that you offered,” he said, wanting to get that out of the way first. “I kind of wondered if you would. I had actually already asked Peter for a loan to start at the police academy, because I just needed to, you know, get away from the library after what happened. This would be different, obviously.”

“I’m curious, actually,” Derek said. “I mean, you said you _can_ go to the police academy without a degree. But is it better if you have one?”

“Honestly I’m not sure,” Stiles said, “but a degree would open up things that would be better than the police academy. I could think about going into forensics, or the FBI, instead of just being a local cop. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; my dad was one for years and he’s amazing. When I was a kid, I wanted to be just like him. But I leaned more towards the FBI until it was clear that college wasn’t going to be an option.”

Derek nodded, letting his hand drift up and down Stiles’ back. “Well, it’s an option for you now, if you still wanted to do it.”

“Yeah.” Stiles pressed a kiss into Derek’s jaw. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

For the second time in a week, Derek found himself sitting in a room with a lawyer. It was almost impossible to believe that it had only been a week since the night he had turned up on Stiles’ doorstep, but it had been, and it looked like the worst was finally winding down.

It wasn’t the same lawyer, of course; that had been a criminal attorney, and this one was civil. She had talked to Derek at length about how this meeting was going to go, and he shouldn’t need to say anything. That was great, because he didn’t want to say anything. He didn’t even have to be there, the lawyer had said, but he felt like he would have just worried the whole time if he didn’t go.

So he was there, and he looked up when Kate swept in with her own lawyer behind her. Derek had looked him up online and thought he looked like a self-important douchebag. He certainly started the meeting like one, clearing his throat and looking down his nose at them without sitting down, not offering his hand to shake. “So, I’ve discussed things with my client, and she’s agreed that as long as she’s allowed to keep the house, she’s willing to forego spousal support.”

Derek was glad that Braeden had prepared him for this, since his natural reaction to that was to lose his temper. Braeden gave the lawyer an icy smile. “Mr. Harris, isn’t it?” she said, and didn’t wait for his confirmation. “You seem to be laboring under a misunderstanding. These are not divorce proceedings.”

“Then what the hell are they?” Kate asked. She sounded annoyed, and either Harris hadn’t told her to leave the talking to him, or she didn’t care.

“They are _annulment_ proceedings,” Braeden said, slowly, as if she was talking to a child. “The marriage contract that my client entered into was based on a false premise. He has filed to have the marriage annulled. It is different from divorce, and he is obligated to give you nothing. Not the house, not the car, and certainly not spousal support.”

Kate’s mouth opened slightly and then she looked at Harris and gestured impatiently, a ‘do your damn job’ sort of gesture. Harris cleared his throat and said, “My client entered the contract under the same false pretenses, so…”

“So Derek is entitled to nothing of hers,” Braeden said with a nod. “They each keep their own items. The house, having been paid for with Hale money, therefore reverts back to Derek. We have done an inventory of the house, but my client has decided that Kate may keep any physical possessions purchased for her with Hale money, up to and including her car, which they did purchase but at a significant discount given their business contacts.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” Kate said sarcastically.

Braeden continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Of course, the annulment will only be granted if Kate is not actually pregnant, so.” She slid a piece of paper out of a folder and put it on the table. “I have here a court order for Ms. Argent to take a pregnancy test. Not a home kit, but a medical test, at the doctor’s office of our choosing.”

“I’m not pregnant, okay?” Kate said. “This is ridiculous.”

“Unfortunately, Ms. Argent, my client has no reason to believe anything you say, about the baby or anything else,” Braeden said, her voice frosty. “You will take this pregnancy test, and providing that it comes out negative, as we all expect, you will then have twenty-four hours to remove any belongings you wish to keep from the house where you currently reside. Whereupon the locks will be changed and you will no longer have access.”

“This isn’t fair!” Kate looked at Derek and softened her tone. “I’m a victim here too, okay? I didn’t know what my dad was doing until after he did it. You know how much I love that house.”

Derek opened his mouth, then shook his head and looked at Braeden. She interceded calmly. “Well, you’re in luck, because my client plans on selling it. If you’d like to continue to live there, you can simply buy it at market value.”

“This is such bullshit, Derek!” Kate practically exploded. “That’s my God damned house! You never even liked it anyway!” She looked at Harris and snarled, “Do something about this! What the fuck am I paying you for?”

Harris cleared his throat and said, “My client was also a victim of this false marriage. They both believed the marriage to be legitimate. Things were given to her in good faith.”

Braeden looked at Harris as if he was a bug. “Neither of you seem to comprehend what is happening here,” she said. “We hold all the cards, and honestly, my client is being far more generous than he needs to be. We could do a divorce instead, if you preferred. We could get up in front of a judge and tell him about the false assault charges she filed, the pregnancy she faked to manipulate him, the fact that he was supporting her with his family’s money even though she was working and he was still a student. Do you really want to do that? I believe the words ‘spousal support’ were already spoken. Who do you think would be supporting who, in this scenario?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Kate said.

“Ms. Argent, you have used and abused my client for six years,” Braeden said. “You get to keep the car, the fancy jewelry, the flat screen TV - anything you want out of the house. Now I suggest that you take that deal before my client changes his mind and decides you get nothing.”

Kate opened her mouth and Harris reached out and squeezed her elbow. “Well, I’ll discuss this with my client and let you know what we decide.”

“Fine,” Braeden said, “but the pregnancy test is not negotiable. It’s to be done by the end of tomorrow. The location of the office is on the order. They’ll be expecting you.”

Kate dramatically rolled her eyes, then snatched up the paper and huffed out of the office without another word. Derek let out a sigh of relief once they were gone. “Thanks for your help,” he said.

“That’s what I’m paid for,” Braeden said comfortably. “If you don’t hear results of that pregnancy test by six PM tomorrow, call me. I’ll have her ass put in jail for contempt of court.”

Although Derek thought he might like to see that, it didn’t come to pass. On that particular score, Kate seemed to think that she might as well get it over with. The office called Derek at three thirty, and informed him that Kate was not pregnant. He had wondered, leading up to it, if he would feel sorrow at the theoretical loss, but instead he just felt an overwhelming relief. He texted Braeden. An hour later, she texted back to inform him that she had filed the order of annulment. She recommended he take anything from the house that he didn’t want Kate to destroy, but he had done that the day before, while the police were questioning her. It was decided that Kate wouldn’t face criminal charges, since she truly had been ignorant of the scheme until after the ceremony was performed.

“I’m curious about something,” Stiles said, as he unloaded a bunch of boxes of Thai food onto the counter at his father’s house. “Why’d you let her keep all that stuff?”

Derek gave a shrug. “It would have been impossible to untangle what she bought with our money and what she bought with her own, or would have had money to buy on her own if my parents hadn’t been paying for utilities and everything. It just . . . it wasn’t worth it.”

“I hate the idea of rewarding her,” Stiles said, his nose wrinkling.

A little smile twitched at the corner of Derek’s lips. “She’s not going to get as much as you clearly think. Kate spent money on experiences, not things. Expensive food, travel, concerts, that sort of thing. Sure, there’s probably a couple grand worth of jewelry she’ll snag, and I let her have the flatscreen because she’s been complaining about wanting a bigger one for the past six months. Ditto on the car - she kept saying she was going to trade it in for something faster, sportier, and my parents kept pawning her off with ‘oh, we’ll get around to it’. She didn’t want to just buy one on her own because my parents have amazing connections when it comes to cars. So now she’s stuck with a car and a TV she wanted fancier versions of. It’s like my last little ‘fuck you’.”

Stiles was nearly doubled over laughing by the end of this. “You are amazing,” he said. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Derek leaned in for a kiss.

Stiles returned it, generously, before he pulled away and said, “Are you okay with the whole . . . not pregnancy thing?”

“Yeah. More than I thought I would have been. It’s not like it was my only chance to have kids. I have you now. We’re still in our twenties. We can adopt, or find a surrogate, or . . . or something, you know? I want to have a family, but I didn’t want a baby with Kate.”

“Okay.” Stiles grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss into his knuckles. “I lean towards adoption, if it’s not too soon to talk about that. My genetics are shit, honestly. Although yours are clearly amazing, so there’s that.”

“We can talk about it,” Derek said. “There’s plenty of time. Maybe a few years shorter than we should have had, but still. A lot of years left.”

Stiles nodded. “I feel so bad for Peter,” he said. “You know, the two of us, we only lost a couple years. And obviously what you went through was worse than me, since you got stuck with Kate for eight years and I only thought I was soulmate-less for two, but Peter and Chris . . . I mean, they would have been together almost twenty years by now.”

“Yeah.” Derek was quiet for a moment, then said, “But I think they’ll be okay, you know? I don’t think Peter will settle for anything less.”

“That’s true,” Stiles said, cheering up. “They’re probably already on a tropical island by now, knowing Peter.”

“Actually he made Chris take him to Venice,” Derek said, and Stiles laughed so hard he nearly cried.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Hale family gatherings are always loud and boisterous, but Stiles’ twenty-third birthday is the most exciting party he’s ever had. His parties have been lowkey by necessity since he was young, and Derek has somehow managed to talk his parents out of pulling out all the stops. They still had to pull out a few stops, though, and Stiles had compromised, saying that if they insisted on things being over the top, he would let Aaron host the party at Rescue Ink headquarters. There was more than enough room for everybody, and half a dozen rescue dogs to play with.

Scott has brought his dogs as well, and Derek and Stiles brought the husky they had adopted a few months previous, and all the dogs were getting along great. When it came to presents, Stiles had put his foot down. The Hale family was paying his college tuition; Derek’s siblings were allowed to get him gifts, but his parents were not.

Stiles was still apprehensive about that, as the Hale siblings presented him with a manila envelope. He opened it and slid out a few papers, and Derek watched in concern as his face scrunched up. “What is it?” he asked, peering over Stiles’ shoulder.

“It, uh, they made a donation to a couple animal charities in my name,” Stiles said, and held a picture up. “I’m now sponsoring Barry, a four year old black lab who needs hip surgery! Among others.”

“Awwww,” several people said.

Stiles surreptitiously wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Thanks, guys. That really means a lot to me.”

“So what did Derek get you?” Laura asked.

“He got me a mug,” Stiles said happily.

“A mug?” Isaac snorted. “That’s it?”

“It’s an awesome mug. It has a picture of an otter and a heart and it says ‘I love you like no otter’,” Stiles said, beaming even more broadly. Several of Derek’s siblings groaned.

“Seriously, though, just a mug?” Erica asked, laughing.

“I didn’t want something big and he knew that,” Stiles said, then added, “Besides, what better gift could he give me than being able to come home to him every day?”

Kira and Scott cooed. Cora pretended to retch, and Laura laughed.

“I gave you one other thing,” Derek said. “I talked Peter out of giving you a car.”

Peter gave an offended huff. “I still can’t believe that you would rather not receive a Ferrari for your birthday. Do you have a pulse?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and said, “Why are you the way that you are?”

“Some people like me the way that I am,” Peter said, with a smug smile. Chris gave a quiet laugh and leaned in to press a kiss against his temple.

“Yeah, how are you two doing?” Talia asked, sitting down with the group of them and pulling a beagle into her lap. “He’s treating you okay, I hope.”

“He’s treating me just fine, sister dear,” Peter replied.

Talia snorted. “I wasn’t talking to you, Peter.”

Chris laughed while Peter feigned outrage. “Well, I think I’ve gotten through about forty percent of the groveling he’s going to require from me. So, you know, slow and steady wins the race.”

“Which reminds me, we’re going to a wine-tasting this weekend,” Peter said, then said in a lower voice, pretend-conspiratorially, “He hates wine.”

“All wine tastes alike, and anyone who says differently is lying,” Chris said, “and you act like you drag me to the wine-tasting, when in all reality I enjoy going because I like to watch you make up outrageous things about wine while a bunch of drunk people nod along and act all impressed with themselves as if they have any clue what you’re talking about.”

“That’s not very good groveling, Chris,” Peter said.

Chris laughed harder. “Sorry,” he said, and gave Peter another quick kiss.

“How’s Allison doing?” Stiles asked.

“She’s fine. She said to tell you she was sorry she couldn’t make it, but Lydia was giving a presentation at a conference and Allison wanted to be there for that.”

“Yeah, she told me,” Stiles said. He had stayed in touch with Allison, and ended up talking a lot with both her and Lydia, her soulmate. The two of them had more in common than he would have expected. She had dealt with her perceived lack of soulmate more like Peter had, presuming it was because no one in the world could match her. Still, it hadn’t stopped her from being lonely. The two of them, along with Peter, ended up in a fairly tight friendship, although most of it was over text. Stiles loved their group text because it consisted mainly of esoteric, intellectual memes. Derek had leaned over his shoulder at one point when he had been chortling, and professed himself baffled by the ‘utter nonsense’ the three of them were sharing.

Stiles had followed the developments with the Argent case with interest, especially in regards to the other people who had believed they didn’t have soulmates. Victoria’s soulmate had been the most hurt of all of them, Stiles thinks. He was a quiet, reserved man who had lived most of his life thinking he was broken because of his asexuality, something Allison had confided in Stiles when she was looking for resources to help her mother with the relationship. They were on better terms now than they had been for the first few months, but Stiles knew it was going to take time for that wound to heal.

Most of Chris’ nieces and nephews had taken the news fairly well, and had all met their real soulmates and established relationships. In one case that Stiles had found particularly interesting, Chris’ nephew Steven, who was married to his fake soulmate and had children, had decided to stay with her, but invited his real soulmate to join the relationship. His fake soulmate had done the same with her real soulmate. Peter had cynically commented that it would never work, but six months later, they seemed to have built a large, stable family unit. “Sometimes love does actually cure all ills,” Stiles had said.

As for Chris and Peter, Stiles knew that Peter really _was_ making Chris go over the top in an effort to ‘woo him back’. He made ridiculous demands for Chris to take him places or buy him things. But they all knew it was just for show. He had admitted to Stiles and Lydia that the best moments were the ones when Chris did things for him that he hadn’t asked for or even known he needed, whether it was start the coffee maker before Peter was up, or trading dishes with him after the take-out place forgot Peter didn’t want cilantro, saying he didn’t mind it (even though Allison had later told them that he hated cilantro).

“It’s the little things,” Stiles had agreed, thinking mostly about the way Derek smiled every time he walked in the door, the way the dog ran to greet him with Derek close behind, the way Derek’s hand lingered on his arm during their morning good-bye kiss.

“Well, I would like to propose a toast,” Derek said, giving Stiles a kiss on the cheek. “To the world’s best soulmate.”

Stiles flushed a little pink, letting his shoulder bump against Derek’s. “To the man who chose me.”

“And many happy years together,” Talia agreed, lifting her glass. Others followed suit, and there was a round of clinks and taps as they all bumped glasses together. Derek smiled over at Stiles, leaned in, and kissed him until they were both breathless.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


End file.
